


Fell From the Sky

by BrandonStrayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bars and Pubs, Canada, Children, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, First Dates, First Day of School, Frottage, Halloween, Hand Jobs, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Holidays, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Masturbation, Moose Jaw Meteorites (Harry Potter), Multi, Primary School, Quidditch, Reunions, School, Sports, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:56:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 106,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne
Summary: Harry and Ginny have moved to Canada and are playing Quidditch professionally. Their life is peaceful. That is until an old, familiar face crashes back into their lives and everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to post this as a WIP since I have never attempted that before, even though it totally terrifies me! I can't guarantee an update schedule, but I am generally like a dog with a bone, so I don't think you'll have to wait _too long_ between updates. I have set a minimum 500 word a day goal for myself and I have been pretty good with sticking to that.
> 
> I would like to give ONE MILLION thanks to my long-term beta reader, [Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum) for always being so encouraging, prompt, and just overall amazing. I would also like to thank my other long-term beta reader, [Drarryismymuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse), for always being so excited to read the random stories I send her way (even if they feature Hinny ;)). They are both all of that AND a bag of Skittles!  
> And finally, I would also like to thank the wonderful [lastontheboat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastontheboat), who volunteered to take on this mammoth task despite not knowing me from Adam. They provided countless suggestions of how to improve this and I am incredibly grateful for all of their help! Seriously, they are a LIFESAVER!! The generosity of this fandom is truly a wonderful thing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> This is also set in Canada, but with British characters (some of whom have lived there for more than 5 years), so this will primarily be written using Canadian English spelling, but will also contain some British-isms in dialogue or direct thoughts.  
> 

_“HWEEEEET HWOOOOO”_

A chorus of wolf whistles greeted them as Harry and Ginny walked into the room. Beside him, Ginny did a twirl, showing off the sexy little black dress she was wearing from all angles, before striking a pose that would more likely be spotted at the end of a catwalk during Paris fashion week than in the team’s cramped conference room. Harry took a moment to appreciate the figure that Ginny cut in the new addition to her wardrobe and felt that familiar rush of pride that such a stunning woman chose to be with him.

“Looking good, Harry!”

“I never thought I’d see the day where Harry’s hair didn’t look like a beaver had been rooting around in it!”

Harry laughed as their teammates razzed him about his hair, which was gelled back and under control for a change—for the moment at least. Ginny pouted petulantly for a moment and then pulled out her wand in a flash of movement, unleashing a flock of vivid red cardinals to go flying around the room, each bird veering off to accost their target, plucking at their teammates’ hair as they attempted to swat the persistent avians away.

“Alright! Alright! You look fantastic too, Ginny! Now call them off, eh?” Jared wheedled as his bird attacker pecked at his ear.

Ginny laughed and flicked her wand once more, the furious, feathered beasts disappearing instantly.

“Oooo, Ginny! Is that a new dress? You look AMAZING!” The boisterous voice of one of the team’s other Chasers, Melissa, came from behind them and Ginny turned to face her.

“THANK YOU! Now was that so hard?” Ginny gave Jared a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to Melissa and launching into a story about how she had gotten the dress for a steal thanks to a labelling error and a store manager that was ultimately susceptible to Ginny’s persuasion tactics.

Harry wandered over to the table at the side of the room and poured himself a cup of coffee, softening the taste with generous servings of both cream and sugar before taking his usual seat around the team’s conference table.

“So why are you two all dolled up?” David, the team’s Keeper, asked as he swung side-to-side in his chair; the man had more nervous energy than anyone Harry had ever met and he always seemed to be fidgeting in some way.

“We have reservations at that new sushi place in Regina tonight,” Harry answered, taking a sip of his coffee and relaxing back into the seat.

“Oooo, fancy! What’s the occasion?” Patricia, the team’s other beater asked.

Harry laughed. “I don’t know if it’s that fancy; apparently they also serve popcorn chicken.”

“Any place that requires a reservation to get in _is_ fancy,” Jackson, the team’s third Chaser stated decisively.

Ginny took her seat to Harry’s right just as Jared said, “There’s no point in travelling 71 clicks to spend $10 on chicken that you can buy at KFC for $5 right here in town.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and then looked around the table at the assembled team and asked, “Who here is surprised that Jared here hasn’t had a steady girlfriend for 2 years?”

Jared looked around the table for support but found that everyone’s hands remained lowered. “Come on, guys! I’m a catch!” he protested.

“Yeah...catch and release,” Patricia muttered under her breath.

Jared looked about to object when the door swung open and the team’s owner appeared in the doorway carrying what could only be the famous Maple Leaf Bakery maple doughnuts in a paper-wrapped takeout box. “I’m just waiting for Sheena to come to her senses and leave that husband of hers so I can make my move on her,” he joked, giving her a flirtatious wink.

“The idea is to go from a zero to a hero, Jared, not the other way around,” Sheena deadpanned back, triggering a round of laughter from the rest of the team as Jared mimed his heart being ripped out of his chest. Sheena had found herself a very rich woman after investing early in a series of exercise classes for witches and wizards called Wandercize. Despite her vast wealth, she decided that she wanted to move back to her hometown where she could retire in peace and comfort. Her retirement lasted less than three months before she became bored and decided to purchase the Moose Jaw Meteorites.

“You wound me, Sheena!” Jared proclaimed dramatically.

Sheena rolled her eyes and sighed. “Will an extra doughnut put a stop to your theatrics?” she asked, before letting out a reluctant chuckle at Jared’s eager head nod. “Fine, take two.”

The entire team eagerly scrambled up and to the head of the table to grab their doughnut and there was a chorus of satisfied moans as everyone took their first bite of the beloved treat.

“How did you manage to get these so late in the day?” Patricia asked, “They _always_ sell out before noon.”

Sheena made her way back to the head of the table after pouring herself a cup of coffee and took a bite of her doughnut before answering, “I _Imperiused_ them to make a batch especially for me.”

“Really?!” Melissa asked, mouth dropping open mid-chew in shock. A smattering of low laughter sounded from the team at Melissa’s youthful credulity; at just 17 years old, Melissa was the youngest member of their team, having been recruited straight out of Ilvermorny, where she was a Chaser for the Wampus house team. She had drawn Sheena’s attention when she played in the famous Wampus vs Horned Serpent match that had gone on for two weeks. Wampus had won by a whopping 3020 points and the game had only ended when the Snitch had been discovered inside a possum burrow, the animal having apparently taken a shining to the shiny ball.

“No, not really. I’m neighbours with the owner and she put aside a baker’s dozen for me first thing in the morning,” Sheena said, giving the younger woman a kind smile when she flushed in embarrassment.

“They’re good, but they’re not quite _that_ good,” Ginny joked, reaching out and chucking Melissa on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“So what’s the occasion? You’re normally on us about sticking to the approved team diet,” Jackson asked as he licked a stray glob of the sweet icing off of his upper lip. The rest of the team turned expectant heads towards Sheena.

She looked around the table, taking in the seven players. As her gaze coasted over first Ginny, and then Harry, she did a double take, keen eyes taking in their fancy clothes, which definitely stood out in comparison to the much more standard T-shirt and jeans that the rest of the team members were wearing. “I want to thank you all for coming in on your night off since apparently some of you have a prior engagement with the Queen of England,” she said as she smirked in Harry’s direction. He rolled his eyes and grinned back at her; Sheena loved to rib he and Ginny about their “posh” accents and hobnobbing with royalty, but it was all in good fun.

“As you all know, I’ve been searching for a new coach for the team for the last eight months, ever since the last coach tendered his...unexpected resignation,” Sheena spoke, giving each member of the team a chastising look. Their former coach had never really been a good fit with the team, and the final straw had been after a particularly raucous team picnic when everyone had had a few too many beers and he had been hit with a Duckface Hex. He probably would have gotten over that eventually if his quacking hadn’t drawn the attention of a particularly amorous male duck. He had turned in his resignation letter the next day, saying he refused to coach a team that viewed him as a mockery.

“We were just having a laugh!” Jared objected.

“And besides, it seemed appropriate. He coached as if he’d never even _played_ Quidditch before. The man was a total quack,” Patricia added, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Be that as it may, his unexpected departure has left our team at a distinct disadvantage, as evidenced by our win record this year,” Sheena countered. There was a collective murmur of agreement at her words; their record this season made the Chudley Cannons look like champions. They had not managed to win a single game all season, and the team’s morale was suffering for it.

“I have been reaching out to any and all contacts I have in the Quidditch world and I’ve been having a devil of a time convincing someone to take the reins. It’s proving a hard sell getting someone to uproot their life and move to a small town in Saskatchewan.”

A snort of laughter came from Ginny. “That might be due to the 80-degree shifts in weather.”

“Or that there are more prairie dogs than people,” added Jackson.

“Or that you can watch your dog running away for three days straight,” Patricia joked.

“Or that—”

“Alright, alright. This isn’t a comedy club,” Sheena cut them off, holding her hands up in a halting gesture. “I know that a small city in Saskatchewan may not hold the same allure as a big city, but I’m sure you all will agree that it’s not without its charms. It’s a safe place to live, people are friendly, there are not hours-long traffic jams to deal with every day. It’s a great place to raise a family.” She looked in Harry and Ginny’s direction and he nodded his head in agreement. Teddy seemed to love living here, though Harry imagined that may change when Teddy got a little older and started craving cultural events like concerts, which very rarely made stops in the province. At this age, he was just thrilled with playing in the large drifts of snow in the winter, and swimming lessons at the Natatorium during the summer months.

“None of us would be here if we didn’t want to be,” Harry said, looking around the table to see the others nodding their agreement.

“Thank you, Harry,” Sheena smiled fondly at him and then continued her presentation. “And I’m sure that I can rely on you all to be on your best behaviour and make our new coach feel welcome here.”

“We can’t handle the suspense anymore! What chump did you manage to talk into moving to the middle of nowhere to coach a losing team?” Jared asked, leaning forward eagerly in his chair and snagging a third doughnut, just barely avoiding Sheena’s smacking hand and grinning with victory.

Sheena threw him a dirty look for a few seconds, but when he showed no repentance and took a huge bite out of the light, airy doughnut, she sighed and dropped it. “Actually, he might be familiar to a few of you. He played Quidditch in school and played professionally for several years before he decided, recently, to transition to a coaching position.”

“He already sounds more qualified than the last guy,” Patricia said hopefully.

“Did he go to Ilvermorny? Is it someone I know?” Melissa asked. “Ooooo, I hope it’s Jacob Eisen! He was in his last year when I was in my first year at Ilvermorny and he went on to play Beater for Sweetwater All-Stars. I used to have posters of him up in my room.”

“Used to?” Patricia asked, winking at Melissa, who blushed slightly, causing Patricia to laugh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Melissa, but it isn’t Jacob Eisen,” Sheena said. “Actually, he’s from overseas. I understand he was a schoolmate of a few members of our team—”

“Oh, no…” A sinking feeling was growing in Harry’s belly, as he became increasingly sure that he knew whose name Sheena was about to say.

“His name is Draco Malfoy, and he played for the Wimbourne Wasps as a Seek—Harry, dear, are you alright?” Sheena asked, her voice laced with concern.

Harry didn’t answer but merely groaned, his head resting on his arms where he had burrowed it upon hearing his fears confirmed. “They….have a history,” he could hear Ginny explaining. He was sure that he must look like he was being melodramatic to the rest of the team, but just right now he couldn’t care less. This was going to be a nightmare.

He only hoped that they could chase away Malfoy as quickly as they’d chased away the previous coach.

***

“Maybe we could put some feelers out and see if there are any other teams that are looking for new players?” Harry proposed hopefully, throwing back his fourth shot of sake.

Ginny pointed her chopsticks at him, her anger spilling over. “Harry, we are not moving. Teddy likes it here, I like it here, and you like it here. Sheena has been really kind to us and we’re not going to leave her in the lurch because you and Malfoy had a petty rivalry 8 years ago!” She grabbed one of the tempura shrimp between the ends of the chopsticks and chomped down on it, not taking her steely stare off of Harry for one minute.

Duly chastened, Harry sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just...I never thought I’d have to worry about Malfoy _here_. I’m just…”

“Being a prat,” Ginny finished his sentence, one corner of her mouth uplifting now that Harry seemed to be coming back to his senses.

Harry chuckled softly. “Yeah, a bit. There’s something about Malfoy that seems to bring it out in me.”

Ginny set her chopsticks down and leaned forward, hands clasped and arms resting on the table as she waited for Harry to look at her. “I know that you and Malfoy have...well, history is an understatement.” She smiled at him. “But it’s been almost a decade. I think it’s time that you move past it. I’m sure Malfoy must know that you and I are on the team, and if he’s still coming then he must be willing to put it behind him and move on. It would hardly be professional of him to go around hexing you, now would it?”

Harry supposed she must be right. Malfoy would have to be crazy to move halfway across the world just to continue his torture of Harry...right? Harry reached across the table and held his hand palm up, closing it around Ginny’s when she reached across to meet him. Stroking his thumb across the smooth, freckled skin on the back of her hand, he grinned at her. “I’m lucky I have you here to talk some sense into me, you know that?”

“Well, with Hermione still back in England, somebody had to step up and be your voice of reason.” Ginny gave him a fond smile and then stood up slightly, leaning forward. He did the same, meeting her in the middle of the table and giving her a quick kiss before they both took their seats once more and picked up their chopsticks again.

“Now, can we _please_ stop talking about Draco Malfoy and get back to talking about how breathtakingly stunning I look?” she asked, forcing a laugh out of Harry. Ginny always had a knack for making him forget his worries.

“That won’t be difficult since you’re always breathtakingly beautiful.” Harry winked at her.

Ginny gave him a wide Cheshire grin and then picked up a chopped scallop roll and gave it a sniff. “You know...this sushi isn’t very good.”

“You’re the one that chose the restaurant!” Harry laughed, picking up a piece of the popcorn chicken he’d ordered. “We’re in the middle of the prairies, thousands of kilometres away from the nearest ocean. Did you really think the sushi would be good?”

Ginny set the dodgy roll down on the plate and pushed it to the side, eyeing Harry’s plate of deep-fried fowl. “You know, the chivalrous thing to do would be to offer to share,” Ginny pouted.

“I wouldn’t want you thinking that chivalry is dead,” Harry joked, pushing the plate across the table to Gin, who quickly scooped the lion’s share of the remaining pieces on her plate. Harry watched her for a minute, reminded of Ron and his infamous appetite. Having a hollow leg seemed to be a Weasley family trait, and Harry found it a wonder that Molly had managed to feed seven children at a time.

Ginny popped a piece of the chicken into her mouth and moaned, her eyes rolling up in her head and Harry laughed before signalling to the waiter to bring over another order of the delicious chicken.

Harry forced Draco Malfoy and his impending reintroduction to his life out of his mind, and for the rest of the evening, he and Ginny had a wonderful meal and enjoyed each other’s company, laughing often, until the time came for them to catch their Portkey back home. Harry signalled the waiter over with the cheque.

After settling the bill, he held out his hand and helped Ginny out of the booth, wrapping his arm around her waist as they headed out into the warm May evening. Fortunately, they only had to walk two blocks because the very sexy heels that Ginny had worn were already starting to make her feet hurt by the time they turned into the alleyway.

Taking a look around to make sure that they were alone, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a quick _Discretio_ Charm before pulling out one of the Muggle coins, a Loonie, and casting the necessary charm to turn it into a Portkey. Ginny grabbed hold of the proffered coin and seconds later they were transported with the familiar yanking sensation, as if a giant hook had circled their mid-section.

They both stumbled as they popped back into existence in the middle of their living room, Ginny from the towering heels sinking into the carpet, and Harry from the multiple sakes he had enjoyed over dinner. Ginny reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying herself as she reached down with the other and freed her feet from the torturous heels, sighing in relief and wiggling her toes.

“Why do I do this to myself?” she asked rhetorically.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, their faces lined up now that she didn’t have the extra three inches of height. “They _are_ pretty sexy, but this is _perfect_ ,” Harry said in a low voice, letting their lips graze together, warm breaths intermingling before he pushed his lips more firmly to hers and kissed her deep and slow. Ginny’s hands slid up his arms and over his shoulders, coming around to wrap around his neck, one pushing into his hair, nails lightly scraping across his scalp.

“Looks like you two kids had a good evening.”

Harry and Ginny pulled away from each other and turned to find Andromeda in the doorway of the room, smiling at them fondly. When Harry and Ginny had been offered positions on the same team they had been thrilled, but they had also been concerned with how far away the team was from England. Harry had been highly active in Teddy’s life and took his role as godfather very seriously, so they had been reluctant to accept the offer, not wanting to be so far away from him. They couldn’t believe it when they brought the topic up with Andromeda and she had proposed that she and Teddy join them in Canada. Harry would never have expected Andromeda to uproot her life for his career, but Andromeda had assured him that she would like a fresh start somewhere where she didn’t have so many memories of people that she had lost.

The four of them had relocated to Canada 7 years ago, and everyone seemed happy with the arrangement. Teddy lived with Harry and Ginny in a farmhouse, about fifteen minutes outside of the city, and Andromeda lived in a personal apartment that they had installed in one of the outbuildings on the property. Andromeda got to see her grandson every day and provided childcare when Harry and Ginny were at work, but she also had a quiet area to retreat to and recharge her batteries when Teddy’s boisterous levels of energy tired her out.

Ginny gave Harry another quick peck and then turned to Andromeda. “Thanks again for watching Teddy tonight. Is he in bed?”

Andromeda nodded. “He fell asleep about an hour ago.”

“I hope he wasn’t too bad for you?” Harry asked.

“He was fine. We had dinner, played hide and seek, and then he read a chapter of his story to me before bed,” Andromeda assured them.

“That’s good to hear. Do you want a cup of tea?” Harry offered.

Andromeda nodded her head, her face lighting up with a fond smile. “That would be lovely...unless you two want to be alone?” she asked, glancing between the two.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Ginny smiled warmly at the older woman as she made her way across the room towards her, Harry close behind her.

“I’m just going to pop upstairs and check on him,” Harry explained as he reached the doorway and veered left, heading away from the two women. “Pour me a cup and I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Take your time,” Ginny called back as Harry headed up the stairs to the second floor of the old farmhouse.

They had been fortunate to buy the house and surrounding land shortly after they had moved here. Sheena was friends with the former owner’s family, and when the solitary old woman had become too old to live on the sprawling land alone and had moved into town to live with her daughter, Sheena had said she knew just the family to take over the place.

The 230-acre property offered privacy and seclusion for them, something that Harry was more than happy for after spending a large chunk of his childhood being gawked at and hounded by people who recognized and deified him as ‘The Boy Who Lived’. The property was located 10 km outside of Moose Jaw, so it was a convenient commute for them to get into town for work and for Teddy to get to school. They had even constructed their own small Quidditch pitch in a nearby field, under a network of charms so that the Muggle neighbours couldn’t see it. They had had to do a lot of updates to the property when they had moved in, with it being over 60 years old, but they had been able to add a few modern conveniences.

Harry rounded the staircase and proceeded up the second smaller flight of stairs to the grouping of three bedrooms. Turning the knob of the first door on the right, he went to slowly push it open when the hinges let out a small creak. Harry froze, waiting to see if the noise would wake Teddy. When there was no movement from the bed, Harry slipped into the room and tiptoed across in an erratic, zigzagging path, avoiding the floorboards that he knew would groan under his weight.

He managed to make it to Teddy’s bedside and he looked down at the child that he loved as much as if he was his own child. Every day he looked more and more like Remus and Harry’s heart clenched, as usual, that Remus couldn’t be here to see his son growing up. Harry bent down and brushed back the long hair from Teddy’s forehead and placed a kiss there, a small smile alighting on his face when his hair flickered through a riot of colours before settling back into a light-brown colour. There was certainly a fair share of his mother in there as well.

Harry tucked the light sheet in around the boy, knowing that he liked to be ‘snug as a bug in a rug’, before carefully retracing his steps out of the room. He pulled out his wand and whispered a low spell under his breath, a few drops of oil slipping out of the tip and onto the hinges of the door, before pulling it soundlessly closed.

Harry came into the kitchen to find Ginny sitting at the head of the table with Andromeda sitting to her right. Steaming cups of tea were in their hands and the two women were laughing. Harry crossed the room and took a seat to Ginny’s left, where his own cup of tea sat waiting for him.

“Ginny was just telling me that we’re going to need to start setting an extra place at the table for family dinners,” Andromeda said, turning to him.

Harry stared at Andromeda, confused for a moment, then took in the smirk on Ginny’s face, which evolved into a laugh when the penny finally dropped and Harry realized they were referring to Malfoy. He had honestly forgotten that Malfoy was Andromeda’s nephew.

This was even worse than he’d been imagining...which he didn’t even think was possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco scrutinized the crew members as they unpacked the collection of matching trunks from their carriage. He was tempted to chastise them to be more careful when one of the oafs dropped their side of the trunk and he watched as the trunk’s corners fell to the ground and scraped on the rough paving stones, but he reigned in his frustration, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Look, daddy! Look at the butterflies!” Lyra’s small hand tightened around his as her high-pitched peels of excitement assaulted his eardrums. Draco looked up and took in the three tall masts of the ship. Lined up along the entire length of the masts was a row of oversized butterflies. The _Engorgio_ ’d wings were a riot of colour against the clear blue sky, the iridescent wings catching the light as they shifted ever-so-slightly.

Draco squatted down beside his daughter, careful to make sure that his expensive Italian trousers didn’t come into contact with the dirty ground. “I see them, sweetheart.”

“Are they strong enough to carry us all the way across the ocean?” his daughter asked, her eyebrows drawing together in an adorable furrow as if she were trying to run a complex set of calculations in her head to determine whether such a thing was possible.

“They only need to lift the boat into the air, then the wings will come out and the Ramora will pull the ship from the water.” Draco gestured first to the large, white, feathered wings that were resting flush against the hull of the ship, and then to a thick, long rope that was running from a hole near the waterline at the very front of the ship down into the water.

“What’s a Ramora?” she asked.

“It’s a fish,” Draco responded.

“We’re not going to have to eat him, are we, daddy?” she asked.

Draco laughed. “No, sweetheart. This is a very special breed of fish. There will be plenty of other food on the ship, so we won’t have to worry about running out and needing to eat the Ramora.”

“You can head on over to the check-in area, Mr Malfoy. We’ll make sure your luggage is screened and loaded onto the ship.” Draco stood up once more and turned toward the cruise worker, who was waving at Lyra as she hid behind his legs. She was always shy around strangers.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Draco reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out a small velvet pouch of coins and handed it over to the employee.

“Thank you, sir,” the man took the proffered tip and tucked it away into the pocket of his robes. Draco nodded and then took hold of Lyra’s hand once more and they made their way over to the check-in area.

Draco was glad that he had planned for them to arrive early, because even though the ship wasn’t scheduled to leave for another three hours, the check-in area was abuzz with frenetic energy as a wide assortment of travellers were funnelled into a large room awaiting their turn in line. The cavernous room with its vaulted ceilings was echoing back the sounds of all the people, turning it into a cacophony of noise.

He was impressed when Lyra managed to wait patiently for ten minutes or so before she began yanking on his arm with an aim to explore the room. “Daddy, can I please have a sweet?”

Draco followed the line of Lyra’s arm to see a small newsstand set up across the room with a variety of worldwide newspapers and treats for sale. “We can’t leave our place in line right now, Lyra. I’ll buy you a candy bar when we’re through here.”

“I can go by myself, daddy,” Lyra wheedled. Draco eyed the distance between their place in line and the newsstand—it couldn’t be more than twenty feet away, but Draco still hesitated. “Pleeeeeeeease,” she begged, looking up at him with the wide eyes and pouting lip that made him feel like he was a monster of the highest order for denying her anything her heart desired. Being a parent was the ultimate struggle between wanting to make their every wish come true, and knowing that they need to learn that they don’t always.

Draco sighed and pulled a Sickle from his pocket. “Alright, you can buy ONE candy bar, but only one. I also want you to buy me a copy of _The Wizard’s Voice_. Just ask the man behind the newsstand to get it for you. Do you think you can remember that?”

Lyra nodded eagerly, beady eyes fixed on the shiny silver coin between his fingers. He motioned to offer her the coin and then retracted his hand out of her reach when she reached for it. “What’s the name of the paper I want you to buy?” he asked.

He fought back a chuckle when she rolled her eyes in a look of exasperation before answering, “The Wizard’s Voice.” Smirking, he handed her the coin and then let the smile that was threatening spread across his face as he watched her skip across the room and go straight to the rack of colourfully-wrapped candy bars. His hand hovered over his wand and his eyes scanned for potential threats, ready to hex anyone who even looked remotely dangerous to within an inch of their life, but nobody paid the little girl any attention.

 _Not so little anymore_ , Draco thought, amazed once more that his daughter was now four and would be starting kindergarten in a couple of months. He remembered those first few months after Ana had died during childbirth and how he felt like he was at the end of his tether, thoroughly convinced that there was no way he would be able to manage to keep this tiny person alive by himself. He remembered those long months, and yet it still felt like just yesterday.

After scrutinizing the plethora of options available to her for a few minutes, Lyra made her decision and grabbed a candy bar in a bright purple wrapper and stepped up to the newsagent. Draco watched as the gruff, demeanour of the old man slowly melted into a fond smile as Lyra interacted with him. Draco felt a bit vindicated that he didn’t seem to be the only one that found it impossible to not be charmed by her. Lyra turned around and pointed in his direction and Draco waved at the man as he looked up and nodded his head. He watched as the man took the Sickle he’d given Lyra and doled out the change. Lyra gathered up her purchases in her arms and hurried back over to him.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Draco said, taking the newspaper from her and watching as she avidly ripped into the confection and took a large bite.

Draco read the newspaper for the next ten minutes or so, occasionally moving up as the line shifted while Lyra hummed a song of her own creation beside him. Draco inhaled sharply through his nose when he finally worked up the courage to flip to the sports section of the American periodical and saw that week’s game results. The Meteorites hadn’t miraculously turned around their truly impressive losing streak and had only managed to score a measly 30 points against their competitor, the Stonewall Stormers.

Draco watched the magical picture as the two teams flew past each other, shaking hands. Potter was just finishing shaking the hand of the other team’s Seeker and giving him a humble smile when Draco felt a rapid tugging on his suit jacket and he closed the paper—he’d have to worry about that soon enough.

He looked down to find Lyra tugging urgently on the hem of his coat and it was only then that he noticed the annoyed looking officer waving him forward. Taking Lyra’s hand, Draco stepped up to the desk and provided all of the necessary documentation for their move. The stern-looking woman proceeded to pelt him with a plethora of questions about their intended location, his new job, and everything else under the sun.

“And where is the child’s mother?” the agent asked, staring beady-eyed at Draco, who took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

“Dead,” Draco responded, making no effort to ease the tension between them. “As evidenced by the Death Certificate that I gave to you.”

Draco expected the woman to be flustered by his straight forward answer—people were always uncomfortable when they found out that he was a widower—but he was surprised when the woman just let out an unsurprised _hmmm_ sound and shuffled through the collection of papers until she found the document in question and inspected it. Draco was tempted to roll his eyes when the woman pulled out her wand and ran a series of counterfeit detection charms, before apparently being satisfied that all of the required paperwork was provided and legitimate.

“We can’t be too safe.” The woman gave him a tight smile before looking down at Lyra and giving her a much warmer one. “And how old are you, young lady?”

Lyra moved closer to his side, looking up at him, and he wrapped his arm around her and gave her a small nod. “Four and a half,” Lyra squeaked out.

“I see, so will you be starting school in the fall?”

Lyra’s face lit up at the question. “I start Muggle school this year, but daddy says that I can’t call them Muggles, and I have to pretend that Magic doesn’t exist. But when I’m old enough he said that I can go to a Magic school. Hogwarts will be too far away though, so I can’t go there like daddy did. I will have to go to the American school instead, Ilvamoaney!”

“Ilvermorny,” Draco corrected. The woman laughed at Lyra, who was now bouncing up and down on her toes in her excitement. “She’s very excited about school,” he explained.

The agent turned her smile to him, much less frosty this time. “My youngest is the same. His older brother started Hogwarts last year and he’ll be starting on September 1st. I swear it’s the only thing he’s talked about for the last nine months.”

“I was the same,” Draco recalled. He remembered how proud he had been when his letter for Hogwarts had arrived. Now it seemed a little silly—of course he would be accepted to Hogwarts—but it still made him feel special. He remembered, too, how excited he had been at the thought that he might meet the famous Harry Potter. He had known that they were the same age, and if Harry was still in Great Britain chances were he would be starting Hogwarts at the same time as himself. Draco had been _sure_ that the two of them would become friends. Obviously, such a powerful wizard would jump at the chance to be aligned with a family of such high repute as the Malfoys.

He had been schooled, in more ways than one.

Draco was pulled out of his wandering thoughts when he realized that the officer was speaking to him. He forced himself to focus on what she was saying, “You have been granted a temporary work visa for six months. If your new job works out, you will need to take further steps to extend your stay, either applying for a visa extension or initiating the process to transfer your citizenship records over to MACUSA.”

Draco took their documents back when she held them out to him. Shrinking them down, he tucked them away in the pocket of his coat and then stood up. “Thank you,” Draco thanked the woman tersely and was about to leave when she continued speaking.

“One more thing before you go,” the woman began, bending down to open the drawer of her desk. Straightening up, Draco could see that she was holding a pile of paper clips in her outstretched left hand. With a dramatic flair, she picked up her wand and swirled it around the office supplies, causing them to stand up and begin melding together. They watched for several moments until the transformed clips settled into their new shape: a silver necklace with a shiny, red apple charm on it. The woman picked the necklace up off of her palm and held it up for Lyra to inspect.

“It is tradition to give your teacher an apple on the first day of class. The apple would be rotten by September if I gave you that though, so this will remind you not to forget it when you start school in the fall.”

“It’s so pretty! Can I keep it daddy?” Lyra asked, excited.

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.” Draco took the proffered necklace from the woman and fastened it around Lyra’s neck, the little girl twirling around and holding her long, blonde hair up and out of the way.

“Good luck with your new life, Mr. Malfoy.” The woman held her hand out across the table and Draco shook it.

“Thank you.” Draco nodded at the woman and then he and Lyra made their way through the secured door at the other end of the room and into the boarding area.

After making their way through the various checkpoints, they finally stepped foot on the ship and made their way down into the interior to find their cabin. The Malfoy vaults had been severely depleted after the war and all of the Reparation payments had been made. Before the war, he would no doubt have been travelling in one of the deluxe suites, but now they would call this modest room home for the next five days. The room had little more than a double bed, a small lavatory, and a window looking out on the rolling sea. Their trunks, as promised, had been brought to the room and were stacked on one side of the room, leaving barely an inch of room between the bed and the wall.

While Lyra giddily jumped on the bed, Draco spent the next twenty minutes unpacking the clothes, toiletries, and other things they would need for their journey into the single dresser that was against the wall and then shrunk down all of their trunks, packing them away in the top dresser drawer, giving them a little more room to move around.

A blare of a horn came from outside, indicating that the ship would be leaving soon, so Draco and Lyra locked up their cabin and made their way up to the deck of the ship, squeezing between other passengers and taking up spots against the wooden rail. Lyra was still too short to see over the railing, so Draco picked her up, resting her against his hip.

Lyra waved vigorously at the assembled people standing on the dock, who were all waving back at their friends and loved ones. “You have to wave, daddy!”

Draco felt a bit silly, waving at complete strangers, but he did it anyway, enjoying the beaming smile that lit up his daughter’s face. They stood there, waving frantically at no one in particular, and Draco felt a pang of sadness that they were leaving. He’d travelled before, but he’d always called England home. Even though he had been estranged from his parents since he had defied their wishes and married Anastasia (who was nothing more than a “filthy mudblood” according to his parents—that terrible epithet having come back to haunt him) and his friendships had gradually drifted apart as the years had progressed, he was still a little sad to be leaving.

But he also knew that this was the right thing to do. They would make a new home, he and Lyra, where they could start fresh. He didn’t want Lyra growing up weighed down by the Malfoy name, being judged for the sins of her ancestors.

“Look, daddy!” Lyra gasped and her arm knocked against the side of his head as she pointed to something behind her. Draco spun around and Lyra did the same in his arms. Together, they shielded their eyes and looked up, watching as a group of crew members pointed their wands up at the collection of butterflies, who began flapping their wings faster and faster.

A pulsing wind began washing over the deck, sending the hair and clothing of everyone standing on the deck swirling around, as the enormous butterflies’ flapping gradually lifted the boat into the air. Draco craned his neck around to look down, watching as the gathered witches and wizards got smaller and smaller and drops of water from the newly revealed hull landed on the stones of the dock, creating splotches of dark colour wherever they landed.

After a few minutes, the ship was fully airborne and one of the crew members called out an instruction. Moments later, a groaning sound came from below them and the ship shuddered minutely. Draco held on tightly to Lyra’s chest as they two of them looked down, watching as the thick, wide bird-like wings unfolded from the ship and spread out, stretching out at least three boat widths long on either side of the ship.

Another call was issued and then the ship jolted as the Ramora was prodded into motion and the ship began moving, turning to face the wide open ocean. The butterflies continued their fluttering for a few minutes until the ship caught up enough speed and the wings held them aloft, air rushing past them and providing the necessary lift to keep them afloat.

The crew members cast a series of Shrinking Charms and the butterflies reduced to their normal size, flying down and landing in a large glass terrarium. When the final butterfly had taken its place, the crew member placed the lid on the terrarium and a chorus of cheers rang out from the assembled passengers. The man took a bow and then disappeared through a door, taking the butterflies to be stored in a safe location, in case they were needed again on the voyage.

“I’m hungry,” Lyra declared.

“Well, Little Miss,” Draco began, turning towards his daughter, “how about we see whether we can track down the dining room on this ship? Maybe they will have some gruel for you.”

“Ewww. I don’t want any gruel!” Lyra objected, scrunching her face up and sticking her tongue out in a look of intense distaste.

Draco chuckled. He was sure that she had no idea what gruel even was, but that didn’t stop her from rejecting the idea on principle. She had a list of about ten foods that she liked and convincing her to try anything else was about as fun (and as successful) as trying to convince a centaur to perform a jig.

“How about some boiled cabbage?” Draco proposed instead. Lyra shook her head. “Pickled sardines?”

Lyra giggled and squirmed in his arms, so Draco set her down and they set off, following the signs that pointed the direction to the dining room. “Maybe if we’re lucky, they will have a banana for my picky little eater.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their method of Transatlantic voyage was inspired by Salvador Dali's 1937 work, _[The Ship with Butterfly Sails](https://i.redd.it/kvwzr8goujo01.jpg)_.


	3. Chapter 3

“So what’s this guy like, anyway?” Jackson asked as he pulled on his wrist guard.

“And what kind of a name is ‘Draco’, anyway?” Jared asked, rolling his eyes.

Harry let out a small snort of derision. “It’s almost as pretentious as he is. Ow!” Harry cried out when Ginny walloped him on the arm.

“I don’t know about you, but I am sick and tired of being in last place in the league, so can we please just give him a _chance_ before assuming that he’s the same git that he was back at Hogwarts?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at Harry.

“It would be nice to actually win a match one of these days,” David, the team’s Keeper, agreed. “If he really is as horrible as you’ve told us, Harry, then you know we’ll have your back, but I think we should at least give him a chance.”

Leaning in, Jared whispered to Harry, “Mistakes happen though, I’ll try to send a few Bludgers in his direction.” When Ginny’s glare switched direction and threatened to incinerate him on the spot, Jared cleared his throat and became engrossed in oiling his glove.

The team finished getting ready and then grabbed their brooms and made their way out onto the pitch. Harry felt a sinking weight land in his stomach when he spotted a tall, male figure standing in the middle of the pitch speaking to Sheena. Harry dropped behind, letting his teammates pass him, wanting to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. Ginny slipped into step beside him and reached down, joining their hands together and giving him a reassuring squeeze. He smiled at her in gratitude; they may disagree on whether Draco Malfoy had the ability to change, but they would face this new challenge together.

As they got closer, Harry noticed that Malfoy’s hair was cut much shorter than he had ever worn back in school, a buzz cut with the top of his head only slightly longer than the sides. The stark hairstyle made the sharp angles of his face appear even more so. He was tall—Harry had always hated when Draco used his height to tower over him, as if being blessed with height made him inherently superior to Harry, with his diminutive frame—and Harry noticed that he’d filled out some since their school days. The long, lean frame that he remembered from their school days had been fleshed out, no doubt from his years playing professional Quidditch. Harry noticed—much to his satisfaction—that Draco seemed to be slipping in his exercise routine, his stomach protruding ever so slightly with a faint hint of a belly. Truthfully, it wasn’t really that noticeable, but Harry would take whatever ammo he could. If the tables were turned, he was sure that Malfoy would seize the opportunity to rub his nose in it.

“Ah, here you all are,” Sheena turned, greeting the team as they stopped about ten feet from the centre of the pitch. Suspicious glances were covertly thrown in Draco’s direction as the team tried to size up the new coach. “I wanted to be here to introduce you all to Mr. Malfoy. I am sure you will all make him feel very welcome here.”

Melissa clapped enthusiastically a few times until she picked up on the lackadaisical mumbles coming from the other members of the team and her clapping quickly dried up as she crossed her arms in front of her chest in an embarrassed gesture.

The team’s less than thrilled response to his presence didn’t seem to faze Draco, who clasped his hands behind his back and stood up tall. “Thank you. I’m happy to be here,” he gave Melissa a warm smile and Harry watched as the self-conscious discomfort seemed to melt away from her body and she looked more at ease.

“As you are probably aware, my name is Draco Malfoy. I played Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps for five years, until I retired a year ago.”

“So why aren’t you still over there? Couldn’t hack it anymore, Malfoy?” Harry watched as Draco reacted to his taunt. He could see Malfoy’s jaw clench briefly and his nostrils flare before he took a deep breath and continued, refusing to take Harry’s bait.

“I retired for...personal reasons, but I have not been inactive. I have spent the last few months studying your gameplay, and I have some ideas for what could use improvement,” Draco ignored Harry’s grumble of annoyance and continued, “but for now I’d like to just observe how you play together. It’s hard to get a full picture without observing your play in person. How do you normally start your practices?”

“We usually start with flying drills,” Patricia answered.

“Good, well get to it then,” Draco instructed. Harry wanted to insist that they start with passing practice, just to be contrary, but instead, he rolled his eyes and stepped over his broom, kicking off the ground with more vigour than was strictly necessary.

Harry scowled as Draco and Sheena crossed the pitch to lean against the side railing. Malfoy had barely been back in his life for ten minutes and he already felt like he was 15 again, with Malfoy constantly under his skin. Patricia had barely finished conjuring the floating rings arranged at various heights around the field when Harry took off at a breakneck speed, zipping through them one-by-one, plummeting and rising over and over again.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Patricia said, floating beside Ginny, the two of them watching as Harry passed through one of the glowing rings and then dropped suddenly, pulling up at the last second to cross through the next ring below it.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I have. They’ve always fought like cats and dogs. Malfoy has a special knack for getting under Harry’s skin.”

Casting a look down to where the man in question was standing, Patricia said, “He can get under my skin anytime he wants.”

“Patricia!” Ginny cried.

“What?! I know that you and Harry have been together forever and everything, but you have to admit that he is one sexy man!” Ginny cast a covert look down at the man. She couldn’t really disagree with Patricia’s assessment, so she merely smirked in response.

“As impressive as hovering in one spot is, it won’t win us any points,” Draco’s droll voice boomed up at them, amplified with a _Sonorus_ Charm. Ginny felt a faint flush warm her skin, feeling as if she had been caught ogling Malfoy red-handed. With bravado she didn’t feel, she gave Malfoy a cheeky salute and then leaned forward on her broom, making her way through the obstacle course of rings.

After fifteen minutes, Patricia flicked her wand and the conjured rings disappeared. David flew down to the ground and released the various Quidditch balls and they divided into two teams: Patricia, Melissa and Jackson facing off against Ginny and Jared. Harry circled the stands, searching for the Snitch and keeping his eye on his teammates and their progress whenever he got the chance.

Harry watched proudly as Ginny maneuvered out of a Body Blow between Melissa and Jackson by pulling up suddenly and looping around behind and below them, before darting toward the Quidditch hoops and scoring the first goal of the game as David fell for her feint and dove for the left hoop rather than the right.

He was just turning away from the scene when he spotted a Bludger, hit by Jared, flying toward Melissa’s back, completely unbeknownst to her. Without stopping to think, Harry changed directions on his broom and streaked behind her, between her and the Bludger and, as he had hoped, it locked onto him like a heat-seeking missile and he rocketed away, shaking the Bludger’s pursuit with a hard right turn.

Melissa and Jackson quickly regained the lead, scoring three points in quick succession, though David did manage to block two more attempts on goal. The game proceeded for the next thirty minutes with the two teams alternating the lead. Ginny had just scored another goal and had regained possession of the Quaffle after Jackson had dropped it when a well-aimed Bludger from Jared had knocked into the bristles of his brooms and sent him off course when Harry spotted the Golden Snitch flickering about 10 feet behind where Sheena and Malfoy were standing.

Harry leaned forward and sped off across the pitch, speeding toward them at top speed. He watched as a look of alarm flitted across Malfoy’s face as he barrelled towards him, and then he reached out and grabbed Sheena’s arm and Disapparated with a crack, not a second before Harry flew through the spot where they had been standing and reached out his hand, closing it around the elusive, golden ball.

“Fucking hell, Harry! Couldn’t you have at least waited five more minutes until I scored a few more goals?” Ginny groused, landing beside him with a disgruntled look on her face. She hated to lose.

“Gin, you know the Seeker isn’t on any particular team when we practice. I can’t show any favouritism,” Harry shrugged.

“Something tells me she won’t be showing you any ‘favouritism’ tonight either, bud,” Jared suggested, eyebrows waggling comedically.

“Gross. You’re not allowed to talk about our sex life. Ever.” Ginny shuddered.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Weasley. I only meant that you’d get to pick what you guys watch tonight,” Jared claimed, but the devilish grin on his face suggested that was not his intended meaning at all. Ginny was not convinced and the rest of the team laughed as they landed among them just in time to watch as Ginny pulled out her wand and a dense cloud of mosquitoes shot out of it, surrounding Jared and sending his arms flapping akimbo in an attempt to dislodge the swarm.

“I assume he said something vulgar again?” David asked, the last to plant his feet down on the pitch.

Harry shrugged. “What’s new?”

Just then, Draco strode up to the team and their laughter slowly died away. Noticing the change in mood, Ginny relented in her attack on Jared and tucked her wand away. Jared scratched at one of the new mosquito bites on his neck as the team turned toward their new coach in expectation.

“Why don’t all of you head to the locker room and get changed and I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes. I have some notes to go over with everyone,” Draco said, his tone betraying nothing of his thoughts about how they had played.

Part of Harry just wanted to bark at Malfoy to get it over with, while another part of him wanted to put off having to hear Malfoy criticize him and his teammates for as long as possible. He was irritated that Malfoy still got him so bothered, even after all of these years. He felt like an out-of-control, hormonal teenager again. He stewed on it as the team made their way back to the change room and got changed out of their Quidditch gear.

All too soon, Malfoy came into the changing room and everyone took a seat on the benches, waiting to hear the verdict from their new coach.

“What I saw out there was very promising, and I see no reason why, with some hard work, this team can’t be pulled out of the tailspin it has been in,” Malfoy began. “The first thing I’d like to focus on is some team unity exercises. A championship Quidditch team should appear almost as if they are a hive mind. They should know what the other person is planning and where they’re going to be at the crucial moment: a goal, a pass, a hit, the same principle applies. You guys have the individual skills, but you’re working as seven individuals when you need to work as one collective entity.”

“What, are we supposed to all become Legilimens?” Harry asked sarcastically.

Malfoy turned to Harry and they stared at each other for an extended moment before Malfoy responded with a level voice, “No, that won’t be necessary. We will focus on team-building exercises and becoming familiar with each person’s style and how they react. You won’t need to read everyone else’s mind; you’ll write it together.”

Breaking their staring contest when Harry didn’t put up anymore protest, Draco addressed the rest of the team, making eye contact with each member as he spoke, outlining some of their individual strengths and weaknesses that he’d noted during the practice. David had a tendency to hover closer to the leftmost goal post, an unconscious bias towards his dominant hand. Patricia pulled her punches when aiming the Bludger at women, only unleashing the full force of her hits against the male players. Melissa seemed to be lacking self-confidence and was inclined to pass the Quaffle to the other chaser even when she was in a good position to take the shot herself.

“Ginny,” Malfoy turned to her and Harry sat up straighter, ready to come to her defence, “you’re an extremely strong player and your flying skills are impressive—the way you performed a vertical loop to get out of that Body Bind was impeccable. But you let your temper get the better of you. I saw you use multiple tactics that would be called as a foul, and the further down you were, the dirtier you got.”

Harry watched Ginny as Malfoy passed judgement on her gameplay and noted the way her lips thinned out, her jaw clenching in anger. Surprisingly, she seemed to get herself under control and merely offered Malfoy a terse nod and blazing eyes.

“And Potter,” Harry looked away from Ginny and served Malfoy an icy stare, willing him to pick a fight with him, “you’re an excellent Seeker, but you’d be even better if you spent more time focusing on your task and less time trying to protect everyone else on the team.”

“Why am I not surprised that _you_ would think protecting people is a bad thing?” Harry bit out through clenched teeth.

Draco’s voice rose slightly in volume and for a moment it felt like they were back at Hogwarts, exchanging barbs in heated quarrels with each other. “Protecting people is a noble thing, but so is trusting people to protect themselves. Every member of this team is a professional, and it does them a disservice to not trust in their abilities.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Malfoy!” Harry shouted. “I do trust everyone on this team, everyone but you!”

“Really? Is that so?” Draco asked, eyebrows lifting up. “If that was the case then you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into the path of that Bludger that you thought Melissa didn’t know about, which, by the way, made you miss the perfectly executed Sloth Grip Roll that she performed a split second after you whizzed behind her.”

Harry’s fog of anger lifted temporarily in surprise and he turned to Melissa, who shrugged, blushing at the sudden attention. “It’s okay...you were just trying to help.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Draco disagreed. “While Potter is dividing his time and attention trying to play the white knight to everyone else, the other team’s Seeker has all the more chance to catch the Snitch first.”

Harry shot up and took three large strides until he was right up in Draco’s personal space. “I don’t have to listen to this! You don’t—”

“Actually, you do,” Malfoy didn’t raise his voice, but his words were delivered in a cold tone that demanded absolute obedience and Harry found himself taking a step back. “I’ve been hired to turn this into a winning team, and I have every intention of achieving that aim.”

“Let me guess, with or without me?” Harry demanded.

“Harry...calm down, man,” Jackson said nervously.

“You’re our Seeker and nobody’s going to replace you,” Patricia added, casting a nervous glance in Draco’s direction, unsure of the truth of her words.

Draco didn’t say anything for what felt like minutes, just eyed Harry, sizing him up. When he did speak, he seemed to be working to modulate his tone, as if he was speaking to a spooked animal. “Do you trust these six people?”

“Of course!” Harry didn’t even have to consider the question.

Draco nodded. “Good. Then all I am asking is for you to trust that they know how to do their jobs. From what I’ve seen so far, they have earned that.”

Harry examined the words, looking for anything he could use to fuel his anger, but no matter how he looked at them, they seemed reasonable—which was really annoying, but nothing he felt would justify his continued hostility towards Malfoy. “Yeah, yeah they have,” he mumbled, dropping back down onto the bench. Ginny placed her hand on his back and moved it in soothing circles, helping him calm down even further.

“Good. I’ll work up a new training plan and we’ll start it first thing on Monday. Thank you for your time, everyone.” The team recognized they were being dismissed and everyone stood up and began heading towards the exit, when Draco’s voice came from behind them, “Potter, Weasley, could I have a few more minutes of your time?”

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look and Ginny rolled her eyes before spinning around and pasting a fake smile on her face. “Yes, Malfoy?”

Draco waited for the rest of the team to make their way out of the room and for their voices to dwindle away as they got out of earshot. This was it. Harry knew it. Draco had just been waiting to get them alone to resort to his old tricks. Harry didn’t bother with the fake smile.

“I realize that this was always going to be difficult, but I can’t help but feel that I made a mistake in not reaching out to you both personally before arriving, so I’d like to apologize for that.”

Ginny’s rictus smile slipped a little and her brows drew together in a look of confusion. “You’re...apologizing to us?”

Draco nodded his head in one crisp move. “I know that I owe you quite a few apologies for my appalling and hurtful behaviour as a child, and I would be happy to provide them, but I think actions would speak louder than words. I will strive to prove to you,” Malfoy turned his attention to Harry, “both of you, that I am not the same person that you knew in school.”

Ginny chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating Draco’s words. “And you expect us to believe that?”

“No,” Draco replied. “Right now, I don’t. But I hope that, in time, you will.” Draco focused his attention on Ginny, eyes intent. “I need to know that we’ll be able to work together and at least be civil. Do you think that’s possible?”

Ginny didn’t respond immediately and the two stared each other down. Draco gave the appearance of calm confidence, but Harry found his eyes drawn to Draco’s hand which was resting against his thigh, the fingers tapping as if he was playing a frenetic piano piece. Finally, Ginny shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Good.” Draco took several steps forward and closed the distance between them, holding out his hand in front of him. Ginny slowly, hesitantly, reached out and took it, their hands pumping up and down several times before their hands slid apart and Draco turned his attention to Harry. “In addition to apologies, I also owe you my gratitude. If you hadn’t spoken in my defence at my trial after the war, I would probably still be in Azkaban. Or dead.”

Harry felt a rush of uncomfortable heat flare up his neck. It’s true that he had spoken on Malfoy’s behalf during his trial in the immediate aftermath of the war, but it’s not like he’d vouched to his innocence. Harry had merely told the Wizengamot the truth: that Malfoy had been instructed to kill Dumbledore, but couldn’t; that Malfoy could have identified him when they had been brought by the Snatchers to Malfoy Manor, but didn’t; that Malfoy was not a good person, but that he was also not evil...because he wasn’t. The combination of Harry’s testimony and Draco’s young age had inclined the Wizengamot to leniency and Draco had avoided an Azkaban sentence, unlike his parents. “I didn’t—”

“You did, so thank you,” Draco cut in before Harry could protest that he hadn’t done all that much.

Harry rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, uncomfortable at the turn this conversation had taken. Malfoy being “nice” was just too eerie to deal with.

“So, Potter. Do you think we'll be able to work together without killing each other?” Draco asked, fingers taking up their _rat-tat-tatting_ pattern once more.

“What happens if I say no?” Harry asked. He heard Ginny suck in a quick breath between her teeth.

Draco sighed. “I used a large portion of my available resources to relocate here, so that would be very...difficult for me, but I would respect that and request Sheena release me from my contract.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not at all what he had been expecting him to say. “Honestly?” Harry trailed off before taking a big breath and continuing, “No, I don’t think we’ll be able to see each other every day and not want to kill each other.” Draco sucked in a quick breath through his nose and nodded before Harry continued, “but...I am willing to try.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open slightly in surprise before he seemed to regain control of himself and schooled his features. “That is a relief. Thank you, Potter.” Draco held out his hand between them and Harry looked down at it, remembering the last time they’d been in a similar situation and how ominous that unreturned gesture had proven to be. Harry slowly reached up and, this time, he shook Draco Malfoy’s hand.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hurry up, daddy! We’re going to be late!”

Not for the first time in the last few years, Draco missed the convenience of having house elves as the bread that he was trying to spread peanut butter on ripped apart in his hands. “Bugger!”

“Bugger!” Lyra parroted and giggled at him as she sat on the stool on the other side of the counter and spun around in circles.

“I shouldn’t have said that. That’s not a word we should use in front of other people,” Draco corrected, hoping he wouldn’t receive an angry call from the school later today. He took a bite of the destroyed piece of bread and removed a new slice to start again. After adding a thin layer of butter to the bread, he attempted to spread the peanut butter once more, this time casting a gentle Warming Charm at the knife beforehand so that the thick peanut butter would spread more easily.

“Now, you remember the rules, yes?” He asked, pairing up the peanut butter and jam spread slices and cutting around the outer edge, removing the crusts that Lyra positively refused to eat. “We can’t say anything about Magic or spells at the school.”

Lyra gave a dramatic huff and her eyes rolled up, exposing the whites of her eyes. “I knoooooooow, daddy! We have to keep Magic a secret because the Muggles don’t know it exists and will be sad that they don’t have any if they find out.”

“That’s right. We don’t want to make them sad. And do you remember what to do if you feel your magic start to build up?”

“If I feel the necklace get hot or move, then I tell the teacher that I need some time alone and I go to the sick room.”

Draco had gone in and discussed his daughter’s ‘special requirements’ with the principal of the school two weeks ago and she had assured him that they would not have problems accommodating Lyra’s needs—especially with the help of the Silver Tongue Charm he had cast on himself prior to the meeting. The kindergarten teacher had been instructed to allow Lyra to excuse herself from class whenever she felt a ‘fit’ coming on, and he had cast a charm on the utility closet that would give Lyra a comfortable, relaxing place to rest until she regained control of her emotions, which often led to unintentional magic fluctuations.

To help her identify when her magic was in danger of slipping out of her, Draco had turned the apple necklace that she had been gifted (and now refused to take off) into a sensor; if her magic built up to a level that would become noticeable to Muggles, the necklace would vibrate and warm up, alerting her.

Lyra was excited to be going to school and didn’t seem worried about the dangers of being surrounded by non-magical people, but Draco was nervous enough for the both of them. A not-insignificant part of himself wanted to withdraw her from the school already and homeschool her as he had been, but she was _so_ excited to be going that, even if he could afford it (which he couldn’t), he wouldn’t be able to disappoint her like that.

For the last two weeks, ever since he’d signed his name on the enrollment form for the school, he had been battling anxiety that the whole endeavour would end up being a disaster and they would have to call in the MACUSA for emergency Obliviations. He kept having to remind himself that things were handled differently over here and it was normal to have much more integration between the Wizarding and Muggle—or No-Maj, as they called them here—worlds.

“Daddy! We have to go!” Draco jolted at Lyra’s insistent tone to realize that he’d been lost in his thoughts, watching her spin around until she made herself dizzy and then rest her head against the counter tile and laugh. He hastily stuck the sticky, sweet sandwich—denuded now of the offending crusts—into a container and placed it in the lunch box that she had chosen when they’d gone shopping for school supplies, an insulated zip-up container with a family of superheroes in matching outfits. He added in a container of sliced apples and grapes that he had prepared earlier, and a container of yogurt.

“Okay, let’s get your shoes and jacket on and then we can go.” Despite her insistence that they needed to leave or they would be late, it still took five minutes for Lyra to decide on the shoes and jacket that she wanted to wear for her first day of school.

They had just stepped out of the front door of their rented house when Lyra cried out, “We forgot the apple!”

“I already packed some apple for you in your lunch bag, sweetheart,” Draco assured her, attempting to usher her away from the door.

“No! The other one!” Lyra yelled, planting her feet and refusing to be budged.

“What other one?” Draco asked, trying to control his annoyance. Being a father had taught him the patience that he had never considered a trait of his before.

“For my teacher! The lady said I had to give my teacher an apple on the first day of class! I don’t want him to hate me.” Lyra chewed nervously on her lower lip and looked up at him, entreating.

Draco sighed and unlocked the door once more, letting them back into the entrance of the small house and asked Lyra to wait while he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a shiny, red apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.

“You didn’t take your shoes off,” Lyra accused, pointing at his feet as he walked back towards her, apple in hand.

“I will give the floors a thorough cleaning later,” he assured her, “but for now, we really do have to go or you really will be late for your first day.”

Draco locked up the house once more, tucked the pivotal apple into his coat pocket, and took Lyra’s hand, leading her down the walkway and towards the street. He had been surprised to discover that the housing market was actually pretty cutthroat, considering it was a small city, and it had taken a couple of months of searching before he had found their rental. Fortunately, it was a single-family house, so he didn’t have to worry _too much_ about the neighbours hearing anything that might alert them that a wizard lived next door. Plus, it was only a three blocks walk to Lyra’s new school, which was one of the main selling points for it. But it had not come cheap, and Draco was stretching his very tight budget with the exorbitant rent he had had to agree to. Until he managed to get the team winning some games and his performance bonuses started to pay out, they would have to live on a shoestring budget.

“Good morning!” a cheerful voice called out and Draco looked around, trying to pinpoint the speaker. Eventually, a vigorously waving hand on the next door neighbour’s porch caught his attention and he saw an elderly woman push herself up from an Adirondack chair and make her way down the porch steps and towards him. “I was starting to wonder if you were some kind of hermit! I think you must’ve lived here going on nine weeks now, and I could probably count on one hand the number of times that I’ve seen you out and about.”

Draco eyed the woman suspiciously. She was wearing a pair of high-waisted purple pants with a crease down the front of each leg and a pink, floral-patterned shirt tucked into it. As she approached, a dense fog of perfume permeated the air around her and her thinning hair had been carefully arranged and cemented into place with what he imagined was a considerable amount of hairspray. She looked about as innocuous as you could possibly imagine, but he didn’t like the idea that this woman had apparently been spying on them for weeks and he wondered if she had some sort of nefarious intentions towards him. Maybe this was just a very clever, convincing disguise and she was some sort of reporter or sleuth that had somehow become suspicious that he was a wizard.

The woman let out a cackle as she made it to the other side of the white fence around her property, across from Draco and Lyra. “You look like a deer in headlights. Don’t mind me. I’ve always been nosy and since I’ve retired I’ve had time to perfect the craft. I’m Marjorie Oxborrow, by the way.” She extended her hand to Draco over the fence and he reluctantly took it, surprised when her grip was shockingly firm and he felt the yank in his shoulder as she pumped their hands vigorously.

“I just wanted to come over and say that you don’t have to make yourself a stranger, Mr…” the woman trailed off, turning back to Draco.

“Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco Malfoy, eh? That’s a mouthful of a name,” the woman chuckled.

Draco bristled and replied coolly, “It’s a family name.”

The woman seemed to notice his frosty tone and turned to Lyra. “And what is your name, little miss?”

“Lyra,” she responded shyly.

“Oh my, that is a beautiful name!” the woman exclaimed. “Is it your first day of school, then?” Lyra didn’t say anything but nodded her head in agreement. “Kindergarten?” Again, Lyra nodded. “Well, you make sure to tell Mr. Gardner that you’re a friend of mine. I was his teacher 20 years ago and if he doesn’t make sure you have the best first day ever, I’ll give him a detention.”

“Really?” Lyra asked tentatively.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll make him write lines on the chalkboard.” The old woman gave Lyra a wink, eliciting a laugh from the small girl.

“Have a good day,” the woman smiled once more at Draco, who nodded at her and then took Lyra’s hand and started down the street. After half a block or so, he looked back to see that she’d retaken her seat on the Adirondack chair and was sipping a cup of coffee and looking out on the neighbourhood. He didn’t think that she knew they were Magical, but he didn’t like the fact that he had such a nosy neighbour; it was just one more thing to worry about.

As they turned the corner and the schoolyard came into view, Lyra dropped behind him, her steps slowing the closer they got to the school. Draco stopped walking and squatted down in front of her.

“What’s wrong, Lyra?” he asked in a cautious voice. She had done little but talk about how she got to go to school this year for the past four months, yet now she seemed reluctant to actually enter the school grounds.

“I don’t wanna go to school anymore,” she mumbled as she stared down at the ground, shuffling her feet.

“You’ve been so excited to go to school. What’s changed? Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” Draco softly encouraged her to open up to him. Lyra didn’t say anything, but rather just continued to stare down at her feet, twisting her body from side-to-side. Draco didn’t rush her; instead, he just waited patiently until she was ready to confide in him what was bothering her.

“What if no one wants to be my friend?” Lyra eventually squeaked out.

Draco reached up and set his hands on both of his daughter’s shoulders. “You are the most sweet, the most funny, the most smart, and the most fun person I know. You’re going to have a lineup of children that will want to be your friend,” he promised her. She looked up at him, seeming to relax a bit. “And if anyone is mean to you, then you just have to tell me and I’ll hex them to always have boogers hanging out of their nose.”

Lyra laughed. “You can’t do that, daddy!”

“Just you watch me!” he joked before pulling her towards him and giving her a hug. “Now, are you ready for your first day of school?”

“Yes!” Lyra bobbed her head, the last of her nervousness seeming to melt away. He stood up once more and led her up the walkway to the school and into her classroom. He had expected her to cling to him for a bit, seeing as the room was a riot of noise and activity as 20 or more young children careened around, but within minutes of walking into the classroom one of the other children, a First Nations girl with a long braid of black hair and a bright orange dress, approached Lyra and the two ran off to the corner containing several bookshelves filled with books and began eagerly looking through them.

“Don’t worry, it looks like she’ll be fine without you.” Draco turned to see a man, about an inch taller than himself, with sandy brown hair arranged in a stylish, messy coif. The man was wearing tan pants with a lilac sweater pulled over a plain white button-up dress shirt and appeared to be in his early thirties. Draco took a moment to appreciate the man’s bright smile before turning back to face the room, watching Lyra as she appeared to critique each of the books her new friend held up.

“That’s what worries me,” Draco replied, eliciting a thoughtful _Mmmm_ sound from the man standing beside him.

“I’m not sure who finds the first day of Kindergarten more difficult: the parents, or the children,” the man added.

“Which one is yours?” Draco asked, scanning the children that were running chaotically around the room.

“All of them,” the man answered. Draco turned his head and gave him a confused look and the man smiled slyly. “I’m the teacher. Brent Gardner.”

Draco took the hand that was extended and shook it. “Draco Malfoy. I’m Lyra’s father.” The two continued to shake hands for slightly longer than one would expect and Draco noted the laugh lines in his face that indicated he’d likely led a life that differed greatly from Draco’s own troubled past. Draco cleared his throat and withdrew his hand, strangely reluctant to relinquish the warm palm.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Draco retrieved the shiny, red McIntosh apple and held it up to Mr. Gardner. “This is for you.”

Mr. Gardner laughed and took the apple from Draco’s hand and, not looking away, took a large bite out of it. Draco was almost positive that Lyra’s teacher was flirting with him… “You know that you should probably wash produce before you eat it, don’t you?” Draco asked, smirking at the man.

Draco liked the way the man’s eyes sparkled when they folded together at the corner in amusement. “I like to live dangerously,” the man replied.

“Do you now?” Draco asked suggestively. Draco was almost positive that now he was flirting with Lyra’s teacher.

The man laughed, showing off his bright, white teeth. “Not really, no. Spending my day with twenty-or-so 5-year-olds leaves me too tired for that. Eating unwashed produce is about as dangerous as I get.”

Draco felt a smile cracking his expression and he turned away. Lyra had moved over to a small wooden table and was drawing on a huge, white piece of paper.

“Not that I want to chase you off, but I’ve found that the drop off usually goes better if it isn’t dragged out, eh?,” Mr. Gardner said tentatively, triggering a sigh from Draco. “Don’t worry. I’ll take excellent care of her. I’ve only ever lost two...maybe three kids, tops.”

Draco could see the man’s amused smirk out of the side of his vision. “Well, that’s certainly reassuring,” Draco deadpanned before looking down at his watch. “Bugger! I have to go...”

“As I said, don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s still in one piece when you come back to pick her up,” Mr. Gardner promised.

Lyra looked up just then and Draco waved demurely at her. The little girl lifted her hand and gave him an exuberant wave that tilted her little body from side to side in return and he smiled. “She’d better be, or I’ll have to hex you,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth at her teacher.

The man laughed, taking Draco’s threat as a joke. Little did he know that Draco very much meant it—even if the man was quite attractive.

***

Draco arrived at the Meteorites’ Quidditch pitch to find that the team was already running the warm-up exercises that he’d designed. He stared up, watching them with his hand over his eyes to block out the September sunshine that was promising to make it a warm fall day. They still had a long way to go, but he could already see improvements being made to their coordination and fluidity. The last couple of months had not exactly gone smoothly, but he seemed to have earned an inkling of respect from the rest of the team, even if Potter was still acting like a spiteful prat most of the time. Draco could understand it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make him want to grab hold of the man’s Quidditch robes and shake some sense into him every time he acted out.

Draco pulled out his wand and cast a _Sonorus_ Charm at his throat, amplifying his voice, “On the ground, everyone.”

Draco cringed as Melissa, who had halted her flight to squint down at him, was hit in the shoulder by one of the Bludgers, which sent her spinning around her broom and left her hanging upside down. He stood, wand aloft, ready to cast a Cushioning Charm beneath her but was relieved to see that she managed to hold tight to her broom with her other hand.

She righted herself with the help of Harry and Jackson, and the seven members of the team made their way down and landed around him. Melissa cringed in pain as she moved her arm, cradling it against her chest. Without a word, Draco strode over to her, circled around behind her, and performed a series of diagnostic spells.

“Malfoy! We need to get her to the hospital, she’s—”

“Nothing’s broken, but you’re going to be pretty sore. Do you trust me to heal the bruise?” he asked Melissa, ignoring Potter’s objections.

Potter looked about to protest again when Melissa spoke, hissing through her teeth, “Yes. Do it.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Harry accused.

“I have confidence in my ability to perform simple diagnostic spells, and if she had something more serious like a fracture, I would agree with you. The spell to repair those can go very wrong if the caster isn’t sufficiently skilled...as you well know.”

Draco was surprised when a snort of amusement came from Ginny, and he wanted to laugh when Harry turned an annoyed look on her. “What? It was funny!” Ginny stood her ground, completely unconcerned with Harry’s aggravation.

“And I have healed many a contusion successfully. I assure you that I can help you without requiring a trip to the Emergency, but it’s up to you, Melissa.”

“But—”

Draco cut off Harry’s continued protests, “This is Melissa’s body, so this is Melissa’s decision. Not yours.”

Harry’s mouth closed and he stared at Draco, breathing heavily out of his nose and reminding Draco of an irate bull. Melissa looked nervously between Harry and Draco until Draco stepped between her and Harry, blocking her view of Harry’s petulant display. “It’s entirely up to you,” he assured her. “If you would prefer to go to the Emergency, I will call a MediMaj for you.”

Melissa hesitated for a few seconds, but then she shook her head. “No, I’d rather you do it. I don’t want to have to spend the rest of the day sitting around a waiting room to see someone. If you’re sure you can do it, that is?”

Draco gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes, I am positive. It will still be a little sore, and you should ice it as soon as you get home, but I can greatly improve it. You’ll just need to take it easy for the rest of the practice.”

“Okay, then yes, please.” She nodded, looking much more confident.

Draco could feel Harry’s icy glare digging into him as he moved to Melissa’s side, pulled aside the shoulder of her uniform, and cast the requisite healing spell, watching as the large welt that was already starting to turn an angry purple began to shrink and go back to a more normal colour. He continued the spell until the skin was back to normal, no longer protruding, and then he cut off the flow of magic. “How does it feel now?”

Melissa tentatively moved her arm, and when she evidently didn’t experience a sharp influx of pain, she became more confident and started circling it around. “Oh wow! That feels almost as good as new!”

“Good, but remember to go easy on it for a few days,” Draco reminded her.

“Thanks, Mr. Malfoy!” she exclaimed.

“I’ve told you before, please call me ‘Draco.’”

“Okay, thanks Draco!” she gushed.

“About time you showed up.”

Draco sighed. Harry seemed determined to make their working together as aggravating as possible. He pasted a calm smile on his face and addressed the team, “My apologies for my tardiness. I had a personal appointment to attend to this morning that ran a bit long, but let’s not waste the time that we have left. Today I’d like to work on some trust exercises.”

“What kind of exercises?” Patricia asked.

“The Muggles—pardon me, No-Majs—employ something called a ‘trust fall’, and we will be doing something similar.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you lovely ladies fell for me.” Jared winked at Patricia.

“Jared, you’re with Jackson—”

“Spoilsport,” Jared interrupted Draco’s pairing off of teammates.

He ignored Jared’s clownish antics and continued, “Patricia, you’re with David. Ginny, you’re with Melissa.”

Harry started heading towards Ginny and Melissa, apparently planning to work as a threesome, so Draco stopped him. “Potter, you’re with me.”

Potter stopped walking and slowly turned back around to face him. “You’ve _got_ to be joking.”

“I didn’t start that sentence with ‘Knock knock’,” Draco countered.

“You can’t honestly expect me to trust you,” Harry scoffed.

“Are you familiar with the Muggle author Ernest Hemingway?” Draco asked. Harry rolled his eyes and Draco interpreted that as a ‘yes’. “He once said that, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’”

“Oh, it’s just that simple, is it?” Harry replied.

Ignoring him, Draco addressed the other six team members, “One person will fly up until they’re about twenty feet in the air and will dismount mid-air and allow themselves to fall. The partner will cast a Cushioning Charm to catch them.” All seven of them stared at him, aghast. “Potter and I will demonstrate.”

Draco summoned his Cumulus 9—the top-of-the-line broom a leftover from his playing days when he was showered with the newest professional Quidditch gear, free of charge, in hopes that he would endorse them—into his hand, straddled it and kicked off. He rose into the air until he was high above the team on the ground. He didn’t stop to reconsider and rolled to the side, releasing the broom from his grasp. His suit jacket flapped around him as he plummeted, the wind rushing past him.

He had a moment of panic that he had horribly miscalculated before he heard Harry shout out the incantation and a split-second before he would have smacked into the ground, he felt his body decelerate as if he’d just landed on a giant, oversized pillow.

“Are you mad?!” Harry yelled as he stomped up to him.

Draco took a minute to celebrate that he had not been wrong and chastised himself internally for taking such a risk. If he had been wrong, Lyra could have been left an orphan—it was an idiotic thing for him to have done, but Potter had always had the ability to make him act before he thought.

He stood with his back to Potter and, with a racing heart, slipped on a mask of calm confidence and then slowly turned around. “Well done, Potter. It appears my trust was well-placed.”

Harry didn’t even say anything, just stared at him with a gobsmacked look on his face. “Does everyone know how to cast a Cushioning Charm?” All of the members of the team looked around at each other and then slowly their heads began to nod minutely. “Good. If anyone would feel better with my supervising, to begin with, let me know.”

Draco spent the next few minutes going around to the different pairings and watching each member perform the trust fall. With each successful one, the team’s confidence seemed to grow and they all cheered each other on. Draco couldn’t help but laugh when Ginny, show-off that she was, pushed herself up so that she was standing balanced on her broom before doing a backflip off of it. He had his wand at the ready, but Melissa had no trouble at all with the Cushioning Charm and Ginny popped up immediately and bowed to the rest of the team.

Eventually, everyone had performed their trust fall...except for Harry. “You’re next, Potter.”

“You’re stark raving mad if you think I’m going to plummet to my death while you stand by and watch,” Harry bit out.

“If it makes you feel better, the rest of the team can observe. If they think that I am going to fail to cast the charm, then they can step in,” Draco promised.

The rest of the team joined around them and offered Harry encouragement, cheering him on. Draco watched as Harry’s resolve started to crack before adding, with a smirk, “Scared, Potter?”

He expected to see Harry’s anger flare up—sometimes it really was fun to push his buttons—but, to his surprise, Harry’s lips lifted in an almost imperceptible sign of amusement. “You wish, Malfoy!” he taunted back before kicking off the ground and shooting up into the air.

It was hard to tell from his position on the ground, but Draco would lay money down that Harry shot past his instructed height of twenty meters and stopped closer to thirty meters above the ground. Draco pulled out his wand and held it at the ready, watching as Harry hovered there for a few moments before finally kicking his right leg over the broom and letting his body drop. Draco cast the charm as soon as he saw Harry begin to drop, wanting to make sure that he built up a little extra cushion given the extra height.

A couple of seconds later, Harry’s body slid to a halt until he was hovering millimetres above the ground and Draco released the charm. Harry popped off the ground, grinning.

“I believe I said twenty meters, Potter,” Draco drawled, sliding his wand back into the inner pocket of his jacket. Harry shrugged.

“Had to beat you, didn’t I?” he said, his voice lacking the icy anger that he had seemed to have perpetual stores of for the past two months whenever Draco was around.

“I’ll be sure to add some exercises that focus on following directions to our training schedule,” Draco replied dryly, eliciting a laugh from various team members. “That’s enough trust exercises for today. Let’s split up and play a game. Jackson, Ginny, and Jared, you’ll play against Michelle, Patricia, and myself.”

“You’re going to play with us?” Patricia asked, eyebrows lifted in surprise. Draco nodded.

“I’m definitely stronger as a Seeker, but I’ll try and hold my own as a Chaser.” He shucked his jacket off of his shoulder and hovered it over to hang over the railing around the pitch, and then rolled up his sleeves. “Well? What are you all waiting for?” he barked out. “Get flying!”

He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that he wasn’t a strong Chaser, but he did manage to score a few goals, at least. He focused most of his efforts on being as obnoxious and in the way of the other team’s Chasers as he could be, passing off the Quaffle to Michelle as often as possible to let her score the goals.

They had been playing for two hours when Potter streaked below him and held his hand up in triumph, silver wings fluttering as they caught the sunlight. Draco was positive that the game could have ended forty minutes earlier when he was sure he’d spotted Potter’s body tense and a glint of gold fluttering near the ground at the base of the unused goal posts, but he didn’t think it was a coincidence that his team happened to be in the lead right at that moment.

“Tough luck, Malfoy. Maybe you’ll win next time,” Harry taunted him from his broom, a few feet away.

“Melissa’s fantastic performance was not enough to overcome the handicap of having to play with me,” he called back, loud enough to ensure that Melissa heard the praise. As the youngest player on the team, building up her confidence and self-esteem was one of the objectives he’d set. He was happy to see the woman’s face light up at the praise.

“You were great,” she rushed to assure him.

“That’s very kind of you to say, and entirely untrue.” He winked at her, a blooming blush colouring her cheeks. “Let’s call it a day everyone. Good work today.”

Draco sealed the various balls away into their case and then hovered it into his office, setting it atop the filing cabinet before locking the office up. After retrieving his jacket, he Apparated back to his rental house and then set out to walk the handful of blocks to retrieve Lyra from the school.

He was standing outside on the sidewalk waiting for Lyra to come out when he saw movement to his right and he turned, only to lose his breath. He’d never seen the woman before, and yet he’d know her anywhere; her face so reminiscent of his mother’s that there was no doubt in his mind that he was standing here face-to-face with his maternal aunt.

“My word…” the woman stuttered to a stop, her chocolate-coloured eyes wide and staring at him as she held her hand to her chest as if trying to still her heart. “Draco?”

Draco was momentarily startled; Andromeda and his mother had been estranged for years before he had been born, and though he’d memorized her name from its spot underneath the singed hole in the family tapestry that was all that was left of her past as a Black, he’d always assumed she would know nothing of himself. It only took a few seconds for him to realize how foolish he was being. Of course she would know his name and what he looked like—his face had graced many a front page of the Daily Prophet after the war and during the Trials.

“Hello...Aunt.” Draco wasn’t sure exactly how to address this complete stranger who was also one of his closest family members, save for Lyra. He settled with the overly formal greeting since ‘Andromeda’ seemed too familiar.

“I knew you were here, of course, but I never expected to run into you _here_ ,” she said, holding her arm out and indicating the school and surrounding playground. “What are you doing here?”

Just then, the double doors of the school crashed open and a herd of children stampeded out of the building and spread out, going in a variety of directions. He could see kids boarding an array of school buses that were parked in a row in the large driveway between the school and the outer fence of the school grounds. Other children ran off to the left, heading towards the jungle gym and began climbing all over it.

A paranoid fear that his daughter had somehow gotten lost had just started to dig its talons into his heart when her platinum blonde Malfoy hair came into view and he let out a sigh of relief. Walking beside her was a small boy; he was taller than Lyra by an inch or two and had non-descript brown hair, especially compared to Lyra’s uncommon blanched colour. The boy seemed to make a joke and Lyra threw her head back in an exuberant laugh.

As her head came forward, she noticed him for the first time and he smiled as her face lit up. Seeming to forget her new friend, she began running towards him and he held his hands out to catch her, lifting her in the air and hugging her against his chest.

“Daddy, put me down!” she complained and started wriggling after the hug went on for ten seconds or so. Draco held her, stealing one additional second of comfort in knowing that she was whole and hale before bending over and setting her back down on the ground.

“Well, now I understand what you’re doing here. I had no idea you were a father,” Andromeda said. Bending at the waist, she addressed Lyra, “Hello young lady. It’s very nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Lyra.”

Andromeda held her hand out to the little girl. “Hello, Lyra. My name is Andromeda, and I am your great-aunt.”

Lyra looked up at Draco for confirmation of this news and he nodded. Lyra extended her hand and shook Andromeda’s before retreating back to wrap an arm around Draco’s leg.

Andromeda stood up and did the same to Draco, who took her hand and shook it. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Draco. I’ve been wanting to meet you since you were born.”

Draco looked at her in confusion and she elaborated, “Officially, I was disowned from the Black family and was to have no contact with any of the members, but I always hoped that Narcissa would come around. I wrote to her every year, telling her all about my life, but she never wrote back. Except once. Shortly after you were born, I received an owl. There was nothing in the letter, nothing written, only a picture. A picture of you, with ‘Draco Lucius Malfoy’ scrawled on the back in your mother’s elegant handwriting—I always envied her handwriting...”

Andromeda trailed off as tears appeared in the corner of her eyes. “I was so sad to hear about your father’s passing. I would have gone back, but by the time I’d heard the news, the funeral had already taken place. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you two.”

Draco didn’t know how to handle this woman who looked so much like his mother, yet emitted warmth and camaraderie rather than the cool reserve he had come to think of when he described his family. “That’s fine...I understand,” he eventually settled on.

“I did try to get in touch with her, to see if we could finally mend fences after all these years, now that everyone else is gone, but she returned my letter, unopened,” Andromeda sighed.

Draco couldn’t say that he was surprised. “I suspect her pride prevented her from facing up to her mistake.”

Andromeda gave him a weak smile. “I remain hopeful she’ll come around. She’s not the only one with the Black stubborn streak.”

“Gran, I’m staaaaaaaaaarrrrrving.” Draco looked down to find that the small boy was standing to the side, between himself and Andromeda.

“How am I not surprised by that?” Andromeda said, reaching out and running her hands through the boy’s shaggy hair and stroking it behind his ear. “Teddy, this is Draco,” she gestured to him, “Draco, this is Teddy. He’s my grandson. Teddy, Draco is your cousin.”

Draco couldn’t believe that he’d actually forgotten that he had a cousin. Everything had been chaotic and terrifying by that point in the war, and then in the immediate aftermath he had been anxious about the Trials. And then he’d met Anastasia and been busy with the wedding and her pregnancy...and then her death...to be honest, he’d entirely forgotten that Professor Lupin and his cousin had had a baby only a month before they had died in the Battle of Hogwarts.

“Hi, Draco!” the slight boy waved vigorously at him. “Does that mean Lyra and I are related too?” Teddy asked, so excited he was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“I suppose it does…” Draco confirmed reluctantly. Twin cries of “Yaaaaayyyyy!” erupted from the two children and the two grabbed hands and began jumping up and down, spinning in a circle around each other.

“It appears that Teddy and Lyra are fast becoming friends, and Merlin knows I have been trying to get Harry to invite you over since you got here, so how about Sunday night?” Andromeda asked.

“I...what?” Draco was distracted by the leaping children and was having trouble processing what exactly was happening right at that moment.

“Dinner. Sunday night. Are you available?” Andromeda asked, unfazed.

“Oh...uh...I guess?” he stammered.

“Wonderful!” Andromeda opened the purse that was hanging from her arm and started rooting around in it, finally emerging with a triumphant ‘A-ha!’ and wielding a pen. Sticking the cap between her teeth, she disengaged it from the pen and then grabbed Draco’s hand, flipping it over and writing a series of numbers on the back of it. “I assume you have a Muggle phone so the school can contact you, so here’s our phone number. Call me on Sunday and I’ll give you directions out to our place. We eat dinner at 6.”

After completing, she replaced the lid back on the pen, dropped it into her purse, and slapped it shut. Draco looked down to see the 7-digit number on his arm: 692-4926.

“I must admit,” Andromeda began, “the Muggles do have some convenient tools. I was skeptical at first, but these telephones are certainly more convenient than anything we’ve come up with for communications.”

Draco couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment. After he’d been given probation in place of a sentence in Azkaban, one of the conditions of his release was that he had to take an intensive Muggle Studies course. He had been reluctant at first, but the more he had come to learn about Muggles, the more he had realized that the ‘truths’ he had been taught his entire life about Muggles being substandard to wizards was not true. The Muggles had come up with some clever ways of accomplishing things despite a lack of magical ability; and in some cases, their technology was actually far more convenient than anything wizardkind had to offer.

“Come along, Teddy. Let’s get you something to eat.” Andromeda took the boy’s backpack and slung it over her shoulder before ushering him away down the sidewalk. “See you on Sunday, you two!” she called over her shoulder.

“I like Teddy, daddy! I was scared at recess when all the other kids started to play a game and I didn’t know how to play and I was just standing by myself and he came over and talked to me,” she eventually took a deep breath after rattling off the entire story in a single breath. “He said he’ll be my friend and now we’re family and that’s even better!”

Draco felt discombobulated and still wasn’t quite sure what had happened. He looked down at his hand again, eyes trailing over the ink there. Hopefully, he could sort it all out in his head by Sunday.


	5. Chapter 5

“Lyra, we’re only going to be gone for a few hours. You don’t need to pack your entire collection of toys,” Draco sighed as he watched his daughter shove yet another stuffed animal into her backpack.

“I can’t leave BooBoo, daddy. He’ll feel left out,” she responded as if her logic was infallible and obvious to everyone.

Draco left her to it when he heard a knock on their front door. He jogged down the stairs, crossed the small foyer, and held his eye to the peephole. He suppressed a groan of annoyance when he spotted their neighbour, Mrs. Oxborrow, on the other side of the door. Draco took a few deep breaths, his forced calm cracking a bit when three loud raps sounded right next to his ear and a high-pitched “yoooohooooo” came from the other side of the door.

Draco donned a pleasant, but distant, look on his face and then opened the door. “All right, Mrs. Oxborrow?”

“Hello, Draco dear! I hope I’m not bothering you,” the woman said, eyes trailing away from Draco’s face while she leaned a bit to the side, trying to get a peek into the small house. Ever since the woman had introduced herself last week, she had greeted them outside her house every morning when he walked Lyra to school.

“Not at all. What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I was just whipping up a batch of my famous shortbread cookies and I realized that I don’t have enough flour. I don’t suppose you could lend me a cup, dear?”

“Sure, no problem,” he replied. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to handle the situation. Eventually, he realized that he was coming off as very rude, so he stood aside and held the door open, welcoming the woman through it.

“I’ll just go and get the flour. One moment.” Draco left the woman near the door, inspecting their living room from where she stood, as he headed to the kitchen. He heard the clatter of footsteps above him that signalled Lyra had finally packed up her army of stuffed animals and was ready to go. He grabbed the entire bag of flour and headed back towards Mrs. Oxborrow.

“Oh, that’s far too much!” the woman protested as he held out the flour to her.

“It’s no trouble,” he assured as Lyra made her way down the stairs.

“Well, thanks so much! I’ll be sure to bring over a batch just for you two,” she promised.

“Batch of what?” Lyra asked just before she jumped from the second to last stair down to the floor.

“A batch of my world famous shortbread cookies,” the woman smiled down at the little girl. Lyra looked up at her in wonder.

“Are they really famous?” Lyra asked naively.

Mrs. Oxborrow laughed. “I may have exaggerated a bit, but they did always sell out first whenever we had bake sales at the school.”

“I like cookies,” Lyra stated.

“You do?” the woman asked in mock surprise. “Well, then I guess I’d better bring over a special batch just for you. I’ll make yours extra special and coat yours in icing sugar. How does that sound, eh?”

Lyra’s eyes lit up at the mention of sugar and Draco jumped in, “As long as you don’t eat them all in one sitting.” Mrs. Oxborrow gave him a wink.

“Are you two off somewhere?” the woman asked, watching as Lyra sat down on the floor and started putting on her runners.

“We’re going to have supper with Teddy and my stuffed animals. He lives on a farm,” Lyra answered, finishing with her left foot and then moving onto her right.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you drove,” Mrs. Oxborrow piped up in surprise. “I’ve never seen a car in your driveway.”

Draco scrambled to come up with a plausible explanation. “I don’t...they’re...uh...they’re going to pick us up. At the school,” he tacked on.

“Oh, well that’s nice. It’s very difficult to get around ‘round here without a car, eh?”

Draco gave her a small nod of agreement. Although he had learned how to use a lot of modern Muggle technologies, the London public transportation system had been so extensive and convenient that he’d never bothered to learn how to drive an automobile, and it had never been a problem. Since moving to Saskatchewan, however, he was starting to realize that was no longer the case. He had been getting to work by Apparating, and both the school and a grocery store were within walking distance of their rental house, so it hadn’t concerned him much so far; but apparently, his behaviour was raising some red flags with his neighbour.

“Yes, well, we really should be going now, so…” Draco trailed off, hoping that the woman caught the hint.

“Of course, of course. Thank you for the flour, Draco, and it was a pleasure seeing you again Lyra.” Mrs. Oxborrow waved at Lyra as she walked down the porch stairs and back to her own home.

Draco watched as his neighbour turned back at the fence and gave him a wave, then shut the door between them. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart? There’s been a change of plans. We’re going to have to Apparate from the schoolyard. Hopefully, it should be empty, being that it’s a Sunday.”

Lyra nodded her head initially but then stopped, an assessing look crossing her face. “I have to go to the toilet.”

They were going to be late.

***

Luck was finally on their side when they arrived at the schoolyard to find it empty. To be safe, they took cover under a triangular climbing structure made out of old car tires before disappearing with a crack.

They popped back into existence in the middle of a large oval of grass that was bounded by a circular driveway. At the far end of the oval, opposite the road, was a large garage with room for three vehicles that was painted white with a seafoam green trim, decorative squares of green arranged in a pattern on the doors. He spun counterclockwise to see a long, squat outbuilding running along the driveway on that side. A flowerbed running along the length of the building had the staggered remnants of the brilliant orange western red lily blooms that graced the province’s flag. Just past their blooming period, the flowers still retained the characteristic pop of colour as their bulbs sagged toward the ground.

Behind the outbuilding was a large, dilapidated wooden barn. He took Lyra’s hand and walked toward the road, trying to get a better look at the structure, which looked like a deathtrap. Leaning at an implausible angle, the structure looked like it would be blown over with little more than a stiff breeze.

“You stay away from that building, do you hear me?” he instructed Lyra in a firm voice. “It isn’t safe.”

“Okay,” she agreed easily, staring distractedly at a butterfly which was fluttering across the dry grass.

Draco turned around 180 degrees to see the farmhouse. It was set back from the road by a large lawn of grass, with a towering evergreen tree between the house and the road, about three meters away from a small sun deck on the left side of the house. The house was two stories and covered in white stucco, with a steeped roof covered in grey tiles. The front door appeared to be on the right side of the house, where a long stoop rose up three steps from the gravel driveway. Draco took a deep breath, trying to brace himself for the sure-to-be awkward afternoon ahead of them.

He watched as the silver screen door was thrown open and Teddy came scrambling down the steps. Draco laughed when the boy came to an abrupt halt and slowly made his way across the irregularly shaped rocks that made up the gravel driveway, evidently too excited to see his new friend to bother with something as trivial as shoes. Finally, the boy made it across the driveway and took off again when his feet hit the much more forgiving grass.

“Hi Lyra!” he shouted as he approached. Behind him, Andromeda stepped into the door frame, holding the screen door open with her hand and waving them over. “Grams says that we should go play out in my toy shed until dinner’s ready! We’re going to have pizza for dinner! Do you like pizza?!” The boy seemed to have energy crackling off of him; he was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Before you two run off, let’s go say hello to Andromeda first,” Draco said, ushering Lyra with one hand on her shoulder towards the woman waiting at the door as Teddy rattled off a list of toys they could play with in his toy shed.

“Cheers,” Draco greeted, walking up the steps to the woman and stopping a few feet away.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Andromeda beamed at him, stepping forward and letting the screen door slam shut behind her as she pulled him into an unexpected hug and pecked him on the cheek. Draco felt flustered at the warm greeting.

“Thank you for having us,” he said. “Lyra, do you have something to say?”

“Are we really going to have pizza?” she asked hopefully.

“That wasn’t what I meant, actually,” he sighed, but Andromeda simply laughed.

“There’s no need to get stuck on formalities here. We’re family.” Andromeda gave Draco a genuine smile as she squeezed his arm lightly. Then she turned to Lyra, “You bet we’re having pizza! Homemade ones, so you can put all the toppings you like on your own personal pizza pie. What toppings do you like?”

“Cheese!” Lyra yelled.

“Well, we definitely have that, but the house rule is that you also need to have at least one vegetable.”

“I like mushrooms because I’m a fun guy!” Teddy piped in and then burst out into a full-body laugh, his head throwing behind him, overwhelmed by his own hilarity. Draco couldn’t help letting out a snort at the child’s antics.

Andromeda watched Teddy braying with laughter with a look of love radiating from her face. “Ginny told him that joke three months ago and now he seizes every opportunity he can get his hands on to use it,” Andromeda chuckled, turning to Draco. “He refused to eat mushrooms before, but now he claims to love them. I’m pretty sure he just doesn’t want to give up the joke.”

“I want mushrooms too ‘cause I’m a fun girl!” Lyra declared, obviously wanting to be in on the joke.

Andromeda turned her beaming smile on the little girl. “A superb choice. I’ll make sure we have extra mushrooms sliced up. Now, why don’t you two run off to play and leave us boring adults to chat for a while.”

She’d barely finished talking before Teddy grabbed Lyra’s hand and started pulling her down the porch stairs. Draco watched as the two children crossed a large expanse of lawn, heading towards a series of three small white sheds about fifty meters away. “Are they going to be okay by themselves?” Draco asked nervously.

“They’ll be fine. In fact, we’ll probably have to go over there and haul them into the house at suppertime,” Andromeda assured him. “Come inside,” she opened the screen door again and waved for him to enter the house.

“Lucky boy. I didn’t even have my own toy shed,” Draco joked as he walked past her and stepped into a rectangular mudroom with a large freezer on the left and a bench and squat china hutch to the right.

Andromeda shrugged. “It’s as much for us as it is for him. Gets him outside and out from under our feet so he can burn off energy. Plus, it helps keep the house tidy since most of his toys and stuff is kept out there.”

“Clever. Now I wish we had a shed in our backyard. I swear I’ll pick up all of her toys and have the living room presentable and then when I turn around five minutes later it will look like a party of Cornish pixies has gone through there.”

Andromeda, amused, said, “Pixies have nothing on small children when it comes to strewing toys everywhere. Tea or coffee?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Draco asked, pretending to be scandalized.

“Oh good. Another tea stalwart. Ginny and Harry have both forsaken their roots and have become coffee cult converts since we’ve been over here,” Andromeda lamented as she filled up the kettle with water from her wand and set it on the stove, which was electric, Draco noted.

“So...where are Ginny and Potter, anyway?” Draco asked. He wouldn’t say that Ginny had warmed up to him over the past few months, per se, but she had warmed up to the point of mild indifference at least. Potter’s blatant hostility had ebbed considerably, but he still seemed to seize every opportunity to needle Draco to try to get a rise out of him. He wouldn’t be heartbroken if they had found some excuse to duck out of this dinner to avoid him.

“They just had to run into town to grab a few things for dinner. We didn’t have any brie.” Andromeda crossed the kitchen and pulled two large mugs down from the wooden cupboard just to the right of the sink.

“Brie? For pizza?” Draco asked, confused.

Andromeda walked over to a second cupboard and pulled down a wooden container with a variety of tea packets and held it out to Draco. He perused the variety of green, black, and herbal options before selecting a classic English Breakfast packet. Andromeda removed two and dropped the bags into the cups, looping the string tags around the mug handles.

“Ginny came up with it. She decided she wanted to combine her two favourite meals, turkey dinner and pizza, and now she proclaims it’s the only pizza she’ll eat because she’s ‘tasted heaven’,” Andromeda rolled her eyes and Draco looked at her skeptically. “It actually is pretty good,” she admitted, “she uses cranberry sauce in place of tomato sauce, and then tops it with ground turkey, slices of brie, and mozzarella cheese.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Draco said, remaining doubtful.

The kettle’s whistle began howling and Andromeda removed it from the heat, turned off the burner, and poured the steaming water into the two cups. Draco accepted the cup from her gratefully; it had been hours since his tea this morning and he was starting to feel his energy dip. “Sugar?” he asked.

Andromeda nodded and stood up, reaching toward the collection of pottery that was arranged in the middle of the table on a Lazy Susan. She rotated the tray to bring the sugar bowl closer and then passed it over to him, watching as he scooped three heaping teaspoons into his mug. “You take your tea just like your mother,” she sighed.

Draco froze and looked up at his aunt. “How would you know that?”

Andromeda smiled sadly. “I did know her for nineteen years before I was blasted off the family tapestry. I suppose she could have changed the way she took her tea after we’d lost touch, but it’s been my experience that people change spouses more frequently than they change their tea preferences.”

Draco smiled, “You’re right, of course. She always said that I inherited my sweet tooth from her.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Andromeda stood up and rifled through a cupboard. After some shuffling, she emerged holding a cardboard package of cookies. “I’ve been saving this box of Girl Guide cookies for a special occasion, and I would say this qualifies.”

She re-took her seat at the table across from him and then opened the box and shook out the tray of chocolate and vanilla treats. Draco couldn’t resist—though his burgeoning midsection suggested he should—and took two chocolate cookies. “Thank you.”

Andromeda waved her hand dismissively and helped herself to a vanilla cookie. They sat in silence for a bit while they both took the first bite of the treats and washed it down with sips of tea. She wrapped her hands around her mug and then levelled her gaze intently at him. “How has she been? What’s been going on in her life?”

“I’m not really in a position to answer that.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, looking surprised.

Draco cleared his throat. “That’s a pretty long story,” he paused, trying to compose his thoughts. Andromeda waited patiently for him to continue. “I’m not sure if you know, but the Wizengamot were not inclined to leniency for my parents, and my father was sentenced to a life sentence in Azkaban.”

Andromeda nodded. “Yes, I knew that. I’m so sorry, Draco.”

He shrugged, trying to appear at peace with it. “My father was a Death Eater and, unlike me, he murdered people. The Wizengamot had to make an example of him, especially with all of the inquisitions happening to investigate the actions of various Ministry departments during the War. I can’t say that the sentence was a surprise.”

Andromeda smiled kindly at him. “It doesn’t need to be a surprise to be upsetting. Your father did some horrible things, but he was still your father. It’s okay for you to still love him, you know?”

Draco swallowed, trying to fight back the emotions that were still, even now, threatening to swallow him. Andromeda had just put to voice the dichotomy that he had been struggling with for the past four years. As a child, he had loved his father with the naive purity of a child. Lucius had not been a warm parental figure, but Draco had grown up knowing that he was a cherished son and the apple of his father’s eye, even if he didn’t display it through physical affection or proclamations.

During the two years that he had known Anastasia and had gradually deconstructed all of his preconceived notions about Muggles and rebuilt his belief structure, he had been struggling to come to terms with these two conflicting parts of himself: the dutiful son, and the man who became increasingly appalled at the lies he’d been raised to believe and the shame he felt would forever sully the Malfoy name.

Draco smiled feebly at Andromeda, thanking her for her understanding, and took a drink of tea to give himself a moment to compose himself before he continued. “My mother wasn’t sentenced to Azkaban since she never actually took the Dark Mark herself, and of course Harry’s testimony about how she betrayed Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest on the day of the battle afforded her some leniency.”

Draco dropped his hands to his lap and unconsciously rubbed the spot where the Dark Mark, though faded, still tainted his skin. “Wizarding law wouldn’t allow them to imprison her, but they weren’t willing to just let her go free, either. They sentenced her to house arrest for 3 years and served her a hefty reparation bill. The Ministry seized the Manor and most of its contents and auctioned them off. She was relocated to a small, isolated farmhouse in Northern Wales—out of sight, out of mind.”

“A farmhouse?” Despite the melancholy mood, Andromeda seemed to be fighting to suppress an amused smile at this news. “I can’t imagine she enjoys that much.”

“No, she really doesn’t. She works hard to hide her disdain for it though. I think she doesn’t want to give anyone from the Ministry the satisfaction of her misery,” Draco agreed. “The only time her mask slipped was when I was visiting one time and she slipped on a patch of wet grass and landed face first in a pile of sheep dung.”

Andromeda threw her head back and laughed, “Oh my! I wish I could have seen that!”

Draco chuckled at the memory. “It was the only time I’d ever heard my mother swear like that. She just stood up, face covered in muck, and let out an ear-piercing scream followed by the most impressive string of profanities I had ever, and suspect I will ever, hear. After a few minutes, she seemed to get it all off of her chest and, after a few deep breaths, asked me, ‘A Cleaning Charm, if you could, darling?”

Draco smiled to himself as he watched Andromeda crack up with laughter, enjoying her amusement at her sister’s behaviour. Draco had been far too terrified to laugh in the moment (his self-preservation skills far too finely honed to make that mistake), but he had suffered from a jag that lasted over an hour when he had left his mother, gone back to London, and related the story to Anastasia. She had never met his mother, but his laughter had proved contagious and before long they had both been bent over with stitches in their side and tears in their eyes in the middle of a coffee shop with the other patrons throwing them confused looks. It had been after Ana let out a very undignified snort as she gasped for breath that Draco had first realized he was falling in love with her.

After Andromeda’s mirth ebbed, Draco reluctantly continued, wishing the story ended there. “A few months after that, she and I...had a falling out, and we stopped speaking.”

“What did you fight about?”

“I fell in love,” Draco stated, triggering a look of confusion from Andromeda. “With a Muggle.”

Her confused look transitioned into a wide smile, her eyes crinkling at the corner, a sign of genuine happiness at his declaration. “That’s wonderful.”

“I kept it hidden from her for as long as I could, but the guilt was eating away at me. We had always been very close, and it felt wrong to hide such a momentous moment of my life from her, so one day I Apparated up there and I told her. She didn’t take it well.”

“Oh no...what did she say?” Andromeda asked in a near whisper.

“All the animation seemed to drain out of her in a split second and her gaze grew distant. She called me a traitor and said that she’d never been ashamed to call me her son before, that my father would be rolling over in his grave. Then she modified the wards and I was pushed off the property.”

“Stupid, stubborn woman!” Andromeda shouted. “How could she still be so foolish?!”

“I never had a chance to say goodbye,” he whispered, the words escaping before he’d had a chance to even consider them.

Pushing her cup off to the side, she leaned forward and extended her hands across the table towards him. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his hands in hers and she gave them a squeeze. “She loves you more than anything else, of that I am sure. Only love would have given her the courage to betray Voldemort for you. Harry told me about that night. Her only concern was your well-being. We may fight, we may stop speaking, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving. I speak from experience.”

Draco dipped his head, overwhelmed for a moment with a rush of empathy for Andromeda. They were both plagued by the pain of unresolved anger, but they had both also found love that was worth the pain. And they had both suffered the torture of losing that love.

“I’d do it all again,” Draco proclaimed. “My time with her ended up being far too short, but even knowing that, I’d still do it all again. Anastasia was worth it, and she gave me Lyra, and Lyra is worth it. They both make me want to do better. To be better.”

Andromeda gave him a wobbly smile as her eyes took on a glassy look. “Me too.”

The sombre mood was broken when the grating sound of gravel and a rumbling car engine grew in volume moments before a cherry red car with its top down drove past the door slowly before disappearing. Draco took the time he could to shake himself of the melancholy over his continued estrangement from his mother. Andromeda stood up and placed one hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, before busying herself with measuring out scoops of ground coffee beans into an electric coffee maker.

He heard the low mumble of Harry’s voice followed by a loud burst of laughter from Ginny even before they became visible. They came tumbling in, Ginny still laughing with Harry giving her a wide, happy grin that lasted until he looked around and spotted Draco seated at the table, the happiness melted away and was replaced with careful neutrality.

The two of them sat staring at each other, neither willing to be the one to break first. It was Ginny who finally broke the silence. “Hey Draco,” she said, her tone not exactly warm, but not oozing hostility either.

“Hello, Ginevra. You look lovely today.” She looked surprised at the compliment, but he had to assume that it was more from the source than the inspiration. She was wearing a snow-white, halter top dress that had lace details on it. Her makeup was minimal, a dark eyeliner with mascara and a soft, pink lipstick. The light colours made her hair appear even more vibrant and the freckles on display made you want to trace patterns across all of that soft skin.

“Oh...well...thank you,” she stuttered out, the subtle flush only adding to her beauty.

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted coolly, his eyes narrowing as he watched Ginny’s reaction.

“Potter.” Draco nodded his head minutely. “I’d say you look lovely as well, but your hair looks as if a raccoon has been rooting around in it, per usual.”

“Draco,” Andromeda chided as Harry visibly bristled.

Draco held his hand up in apology. “I was only kidding, but that was rude of me. I’m a guest in your house. I apologize, Potter.”

Ginny sidled up to Harry and rubbed her hand through his hair. “I think your hair is sexy. It always looks like I can’t keep my hands off of you. You have sex-god hair,” she murmured the last, but it was still loud enough to drift over to Draco and he smirked. Now that she’d said it, he had to admit it did look like the two of them had perhaps pulled off on one of the empty grid roads and delayed their return a bit.

Andromeda either didn’t hear Ginny’s whispered condolence or chose to ignore it. “And that will be enough of this ‘Potter’ and ‘Malfoy’ nonsense. Both of you have first names, so use them.”

“I don’t—”

“Harry James Potter, you will call my nephew by his name,” Andromeda’s tone brooked no argument and she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and stared Harry down.

Sighing, Harry eventually admitted defeat and turned to Draco. “Hello, Draco.” He managed to inject just enough sass into those two simple words to make it clear that he was only using them under duress.

“Hello, Harry,” he returned, “Merlin, that feels _weird_.”

“Honest to Merlin, it’s like they’re still children,” Andromeda muttered under her breath.

Ginny chuckled at that and then changed the subject. “We got all the pizza toppings…” she cast a sideways glance at Draco and smirked, “and we also grabbed a couple of bottles of wine. We figured it may help...ease the tension.”

“What are we waiting for?” Draco asked.

“It’s unsavoury to start drinking before 6,” Andromeda protested.

Ginny shrugged. “It’s 6 pm somewhere, and besides,” she leaned conspiratorially towards Andromeda and said under her breath, “I think this qualifies as a special exception.”

Andromeda eyed Draco and Harry, who didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, apparently reading the ingredients on a can of tomato sauce, and pulled out four wine glasses. Ginny pulled out a corkscrew and opened one of the bottles, a light, crisp sauvignon blanc, and gave each of the glasses a healthy pour.

The four settled around the table, Andromeda at the head, Ginny sitting across from Draco, and Harry beside her. Andromeda broke the silence, “So, Draco, tell us about this Muggle woman of yours that you fell in love with.”

“ _You_ fell in love with a Muggle?!” Harry asked, incredulously.

“People can _change_ , Po—Harry,” Draco caught himself at Andromeda’s scowl.

“I doubt it,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Draco chose to ignore him, instead focusing on Andromeda. “Her name was Anastasia. She was the Muggle that was assigned to work with me for the immersive Muggle Studies course I had to take as part of my probation conditions. She thought I was a total prat when we first met,” Draco chuckled at the memory.

“I like her already,” Harry sniped, earning a quick elbow to the side from Ginny.

“What was she like?” Ginny asked.

“She was…” Draco struggled to condense such a complicated answer into a simple combination of words. “She was brave, and beautiful, and funny—she was so funny! I have never met anyone that made me laugh so hard that my stomach actually _hurt_ afterward—and she didn’t let me get away with anything. The first time we met, I was, to put it mildly, recalcitrant about having to learn about Muggles. I was still subscribed to the Pure-blood values that I had been fed my entire life and was convinced that it was a waste of time and that there would be nothing worthwhile in the exercise. I told her that there was nothing a mere _Muggle_ could teach me.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Harry’s taunt was met by an irritated huff from Andromeda and he bowed his head and focused intently on the placemat in front of him, tugging on the frayed edges.

“Yes, well...change takes time, especially with someone as stubborn as I am,” Draco said, enjoying the twin looks of surprise on Harry and Ginny’s face.

“Stubbornness runs in our family,” Andromeda winked at him and he gave her a grateful smile back. “So how did she take that?”

Draco laughed. “She didn’t. She slipped her purse over her shoulder and told me that she wasn’t a surgeon and couldn’t help me, and wished me a good time in prison.”

“A surgeon?” Ginny asked.

“I realized that I was stamping my own ticket to Azkaban and so I chased after her. I managed to catch up to her and begged her to reconsider, but she didn’t say anything. Finally, after a few blocks, she swivelled around and pointed a finger into my face and yelled at me ‘You have a stick so far up your arse that I’m surprised you can tie your own shoes. You’re going to need a surgeon to remove it!’”

Draco laughed along with Ginny and Andromeda. Even Harry seemed to be fighting back a smile.

“She sounds like someone I’d be friends with.” Ginny leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.

“I think she would have liked you too,” Draco agreed.

“So what happened next?” Ginny asked, engaged in the story.

“She dropped me into the pool,” Draco said. “She held her hand out and demanded my wand. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but I realized my options were limited, so I reluctantly gave it to her. She tucked it away into her purse and pulled out a pen and paper. After writing an address down on it, she handed it to me, along with a 10£ and told me to meet her there. I followed her down into a Tube station, but I lost her when she had a ticket to enter and I didn’t. I spent the next two hours studying the maps, trying to figure out where I needed to go. Finally, a middle-aged woman seemed to notice my increasing panic and took pity on me and walked me through the whole process and I got on the right train. I only had to go one stop.

“When I stepped into the coffee shop she’d said to meet in, it was almost two and a half hours after she’d left me, and it was four blocks away from where we’d started. She was sitting there with a latte in front of her and reading a book. When I collapsed down into the chair across from her, she marked her page and then set the book down and just asked, ‘Still think there’s nothing to learn about Muggles?’”

“I take it her tactic worked?” Andromeda asked.

“I wanted to hex her right at that moment, so it was fortunate that she still hadn’t given me back my wand. My pride was hurt and I felt like she was laughing at me, but it was definitely a humbling experience. I never wanted to feel that lost and like I had no control again—I’d already experienced enough of that under Voldemort to last me a lifetime—so I promised myself that I would try to keep an open mind.”

“That’s a really cute story. She’s Lyra’s mother, then?” Ginny asked and Draco nodded.

“We were together as a couple for a little over a year,” Draco said.

“And then she came to her senses?” Harry said, smirking at his own joke.

“She died while giving birth to Lyra. Excessive postpartum bleeding. They gave her a number of blood transfusions, but they weren’t able to save her,” Draco bit out, hoping that Harry felt like a right arse.

“Oh, Draco,” Andromeda gasped, while Ginny raised her hand to cover her shocked mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Merlin, I didn’t—” Harry began, but just then stomping feet could be heard behind him and Draco spun around in his chair to see Lyra and Teddy running up the wooden stairs of a deck that was attached to the back of the house, through a door with a large glass window.

Teddy pulled open the door and held it open for Lyra, following after her. “We’re hungry! Can we have pizza now?” he asked, running over to Andromeda and pulling on the sleeve of her arm.

Andromeda cleared her throat and pasted on a smile for the small boy. “You bet!”

What followed was a flurry of activity in which Andromeda pulled out a large metal bowl from the oven with a tea towel resting over it with a large ball of dough that had risen inside of it. The table was cleared and flour was sprinkled over the surface and then the two small children were put to work rolling out circles of dough for their pizza.

Draco seized the distraction of the moment and slipped out the back door, walking down the steps and across the grass to a long flower bed, backed by a simple white-painted plank fence and fronted by a low wall of stacked cinder blocks that had also been painted white. At first, the flowerbed seemed a chaotic mess, so unlike the meticulously planned and plotted flowerbeds that his mother had preferred, but after a few minutes, Draco began to see the pattern. Vibrant red blended into softening pinks, oranges, yellows, all the way through the rainbow to bright purple flowers at the far end.

Draco walked slowly along the cinder block wall, enjoying the bouquet of aromas that slipped over him, filling his nose and then slipping away as he ventured past. After a slow meander, he finally reached the end of the flowerbed and looked back, enjoying the beauty of the chaos.

His eyes were drawn to a movement on his left and he turned to see Harry trudging slowly towards him, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck and his head bowed. After long moments, Harry was within a few feet of him and he stopped, still staring down at his feet.

“Look, Draco…”

“Andromeda isn’t here you know,” he interrupted.

Harry looked flummoxed for a second and Draco sighed, “Actually, maybe it’s best to just stick to ‘Draco’. I wouldn’t want to overtax your brain.”

Harry’s eyes shot up to Draco’s and flared with annoyance. “You know what, I’m trying to apologize, but you make it really hard to do when you act like a tosser!”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to miss an apology from ‘The Boy Who Lived’, so I’ll try to control myself,” Draco said.

Harry took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry about what I said earlier...you know...about her coming to her senses,” Harry stuttered out. Draco didn’t say anything but just nodded for him to continue. “I didn’t realize that she had...you know...passed.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Draco offered.

“Yeah, well...it was still pretty gormless of me to joke about,” Harry said.

“Now that I certainly would expect,” Draco said with a pleased look on his face.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Draco shrugged. “I’m an acquired taste.”

“Yeah, so are prairie oysters,” Harry grumbled, “and those are disgusting.” At Draco’s confused look, Harry elaborated, “Prairie oysters are deep-fried bull testicles.”

Draco’s face scrunched up in a look of disgust and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Harry turned around when he heard shouting and saw Lyra beckoning them over with waving arms, her fine hair swirling around her head in the wind.

“Come on, let’s go make some pizza,” Harry said as he began walking back towards the house.

“Fine, but there had better be no testicles on my pizza,” Draco warned and Harry grinned.

He had only been gone for perhaps ten minutes, but it was more than enough time for Lyra to become covered in flour from head to toe, looking as if she’d been slaving away in a bakery for hours.

“Looks like you’re going to need a bath when we get home,” Draco laughed as Lyra grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him up the stairs and into the house.

“Teddy and I made your crust for you, daddy!” she exclaimed, pointing at an irregularly shaped slab of dough on the table.

Draco inspected the oblong crust with a suspicious bulge at one end and couldn’t help but notice that it looked somewhat phallic. When he looked up, Ginny’s eyes were sparkling for a second before she dipped her head, hiding her face. “Was this your doing?” he asked suspiciously.

“No, daddy! I made it!” Lyra protested.

Ginny held her flour-covered hand up and shook her head, her chest heaving with suppressed laughter.

“You don’t even have to cut it,” Lyra preened. “You can just eat it straight from the end, see?” She lifted the floppy dough up and simulated taking big bites out of it, giving Draco a horrifying vision of the future.

“And what’s this here?” he asked, pointing at the bulges of dough at the far end.

“That’s so you can hold it with two hands,” Lyra answered simply.

Harry walked up behind Lyra and took a look at the crust and then smirked. “Looks like you’re going to have testicles on your pizza after all, Draco.” Ginny lost her fight with the giggles and laughed, Harry, and even Andromeda, joining in.

Several hours later, they had all eaten their personal pizzas—another round of laughs arising when Draco began fellating his dick-shaped pizza—and had gone through another two bottles of wine. Draco had even let politeness get the better of his judgement and had agreed to try a bite of Ginny’s atrocious turkey dinner pizza—he chalked it up to the wine that he actually thought it wasn’t bad and snuck a full slice when he thought no one was looking.

It was just after 8 pm when Draco said that they should be going. Lyra wasn’t keen to leave, wanting to play with Teddy some more, but after a bit of a tantrum, she was now in his arms with her arms wrapped around his neck, her head turned away and facing over his shoulder.

“Thanks again for having us,” Draco said, surprised by how much he actually meant it. He had assumed that this would be an awkward catastrophe of an evening, but it had actually been...okay. Sure, there were a few grisly moments, but the wine really had proven to be an effective social lubricant and he had found himself actually enjoying the evening.

“Our pleasure,” Andromeda gushed, leaning up on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “We’ll see you next week, I hope?”

“Oh, uh..” Draco hedged, not sure what to say. They’d managed to avoid today being a spectacular disaster, but that didn’t mean that he would be welcome on a regular basis.

“It’s okay if you—” Harry started.

“You should come,” Ginny interrupted. Harry looked at her, startled. “It’s good for Teddy to have a wizarding child to play with.”

Harry looked down at the boy, who had his arm wrapped around Harry’s midsection and his head resting against his side. The energy that had been pouring out of him earlier seemed to have been drained, and now he looked as ready for bed as Lyra was. Harry ran his hand over the back of Teddy’s head and smiled. “Yeah, Mal—Draco. You should join us next week... if you want.”

Andromeda clapped her hands together in front of her and beamed at him, obviously thrilled, and he couldn’t disappoint her. “That would be wonderful,” he agreed. “But next time I’ll bring the wine.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Excuse me,” Draco tried to get the attention of the frazzled looking woman behind the desk.

“Just one second, please,” the harried woman responded as she rolled her chair across the plastic mat on the floor and over to a dark grey filing cabinet on the other side of the reception area.

Draco looked around while he waited. Over his right shoulder, there was a machine resting against the wall and he inspected it, trying to determine its function. Based on the pictures on the machine, and the window beside it that looked out on an indoor skating rink, Draco surmised that it must be used for sharpening the blades on ice skates. Down the cavernous hall to the right, opposite the door they came in, he could see a collection of white plastic chairs and tables arranged in clumps in what appeared to be a canteen area. He couldn’t see the swimming area, but the sharp bite of chlorine in the air betrayed its presence.

“What can I do for you?” Draco was jolted out of his inspection of the Sportsplex by the woman’s inquiry. Despite obviously having a busy day, her tone was friendly and she offered him a warm smile as she waited patiently for him to answer. He’d been living in Moose Jaw for five months and he was still not quite used to the ease with which people here smiled and acted so friendly and welcoming with strangers. Far from the standoffish, mind-your-own-business mentality of London, the norm here was to say ‘hello’ whenever you passed someone on the street.

Draco returned her smile; though it still felt a little brittle and forced, he thought that he had at least become slightly more natural with casual smiling. His first few attempts, based on the disturbed looks he had received, were definitely more of a rictus—more a baring of teeth than a smile, per se.

“My daughter, Lyra, is signed up for swimming lessons that start today.”

The woman stood up and leaned over the desk to look at Lyra, who had a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on over her bathing suit. “Well, that’s exciting. Is this your first swimming class?” Lyra nodded shyly and the woman smiled. “Looks like you’re about...four years old?” the woman asked, turning to Draco.

“That’s right,” he confirmed.

“I’ll be five in this many months,” Lyra whispered, holding up her hand with two fingers extended.

“Oh wow! Maybe you can have your birthday party here at the pool. I bet all your friends would have a lot of fun on the water slide,” the woman suggested.

“Can I, daddy? Teddy loves the slide at school!” Lyra begged, tugging on his pant leg excitedly.

“If that’s what you want, then that is fine with me, but first you need to learn how to swim.” Draco turned back to the receptionist.

“And is her daddy going to swim with her?” she asked.

Draco fought the urge to tug his cuffs down further. He had become very adept at Cooling Charms over the past few months. He wasn’t sure if the Dark Mark would trigger the same looks of revulsion it did back in England on the few occasions he’d had exposed forearms, but he wasn’t keen to find out. He also finally seemed to have reached a tentative peace with Harry and Ginny after weeks of hostility—mostly from Potter, but he’d also felt her burning holes through him with her gaze on more than one occasion—and he didn’t want to do anything to risk reigniting their wrath.

“No, no swimming for me,” he declined, shaking his head.

“Okay then. She’ll be in our Pre-AquaQuest 1 class.” The woman looked back down at her desk and began shuffling through a stack of papers before removing one from near the top of the pile. “I’ll just need you to fill out this form for us. We need to know emergency contact info, if the child has any medical conditions, standard stuff.”

The woman slid the paper across the reception desk and then plucked a pen out of a pencil holder beside her monitor and handed it to him. Draco bent over and began filling in the form, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lyra wandered down the hall and inspected a trophy case that was hanging on the wall. After he finished the form, he clicked the pen to retract the tip and handed it back to her, along with the form. She took it and held it in front of her, scanning it to make sure he’d filled out all the required information and then nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“Perfect. The locker rooms are just down that way,” the woman pointed, extending her right arm and pointing down a hallway that ran perpendicular to the main one, right past the reception desk, “on the right. I don’t suppose her mother is here?”

Draco stared at the woman, confused, before answering, “No...uh...no, it’s just us.”

“Oh,” the woman clucked, “well, unfortunately, we just have the women’s and men’s changing areas…”

“And?” Draco asked.

“And...well...you just won’t be able to escort her through the women’s change room, is all. But she’ll be fine. It’s a straight shot through the change room to the pool. She’ll just need to make a right through the shower area and then around the corner to the left to get out to the pool.”

“Couldn’t I just take her through the men’s changing room?” he protested.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t allow that. Really, it’s not far. She’ll be just fine,” the woman tried to placate him.

“This is—”

“I can take her.”

Draco spun around to see Ginny behind him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone more accusing than he meant for it to be, but Ginny just laughed.

“Nice to see you too, Draco.”

“Sorry, you just surprised me,” he apologized. “Are you here for swimming lessons too, then?”

“Nah, I know how to swim,” she joked, laughing again when he pursed his lips at her answer. “Teddy is practically half fish. Hi Susan.” Ginny waved at the receptionist, who seemed relieved that the awkward change room situation seemed to have resolved itself.

“Lyraaaaa!!!!” Draco turned back around toward the exit to see Teddy shoot through it and dash across to them, Harry approaching at a much more leisurely pace. “Are you going to be in my class?” he asked excitedly.

“Sorry, Teddy, Lyra will be in a different class than you, but I’m sure that you two can play together during the free swim time at the end of the classes,” Susan consoled.

“Harry, can you get Teddy all signed in?” Ginny requested. “I’m going to take Lyra through the changing room.”

“Sure, no problem.” Harry stepped up to the desk behind Draco and began filling out the requisite forms.

“Come on, let’s go get you all ready.” Ginny held her hand out for Lyra and the little girl took it before the two walked down the hallway and disappeared through a heavy wooden door about halfway down.

Draco stood at the reception desk awkwardly, unsure what to do with himself while Harry chatted with Susan, laughing at an anecdote about a parent in a class earlier in the week that had apparently disregarded the caution signs about wet floors and had slipped and fallen into the pool fully clothed. Harry let out a deep laugh, tossing his head back, then pushed his glasses up his nose as it fell forward again. Draco had the fleeting thought that he wished he could make Harry laugh like that.

“It’s good to see you again, Susan. Come on Tedster, let’s get you ready for the pool.” Harry dropped a hand onto the lad’s shoulder and he looked up at him, every inch of the boy’s face covered with admiration. Harry turned towards Draco.

“Do you know where you’re going?” When Draco gave a small shake of his head, Harry continued, “Just head past the canteen and there’s a door on the left that leads into the pool area. There are some benches there for spectators. Ginny and I’ll meet you there.”

Harry turned and started down the hallway to the change rooms, one arm still on Teddy’s shoulder, but just before he disappeared behind the wall, Draco called out to him, “Thanks...Harry.”

It was still so odd to call him that.

Harry actually gave him a small smile—it was insignificant compared to his usual wide grin, but Draco liked it just the same. “See you in a few minutes.”

Draco walked towards the canteen, stopping to inspect the assortment of snacks that were on sale. On impulse, he purchased a bright blue bag of something called Popcorn Twists, handing over one of the two-toned toonies, and then made his way through the door to the pool area. He paused for a minute, getting accustomed to the sudden rise in humidity in this part of the building. With one hand, he unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, relieving the suffocating feeling of the air.

He claimed a seat in the front row of the silver metal stands, closest to the small paddle pool that he figured Lyra would be in. He looked across the room to the far wall where he could see the entrances to the changing rooms, but there was no sign of his daughter. He looked away, taking in the regular pool which was divided into lanes by a series of floating cords. In the deep end, near the benches, there was an exercise class of some kind happening; a group of elderly women were doing a series of exercises as they bobbed in the water, sitting astride long strips of neon-coloured foam.

He saw movement out of the side of his eye and he turned back, his mouth breaking out into a wide smile when he saw his little girl poke her head around the wall and look nervously around the pool. When she spotted him, she seemed to relax, waving wildly at him until he waved back.

A brown-haired teenager in a one-piece blue swimsuit wearing a whistle around her neck walked over to the change room and bent down, saying something to Lyra. He watched as his little girl nodded shyly, but then seemed to relax as the girl said something to her. The teenager held her hand out for Lyra and then led her over to the paddling pool. Lyra waded in up to her calves and bent over, splashing water up and giggling when it rained down onto her hair.

“She’s really very cute you know,” Ginny commented as she took the seat beside him.

“I know. She gets it from her mother,” he replied, chuckling as Lyra lowered herself into the water and began wading around like a seal.

“She looks so much like you,” Ginny said, watching the little girl. “Thank Merlin she must have inherited your wife’s disposition.” Draco shot her a dirty look and she grinned at him.

“I like to think I’ve improved with age,” he retorted, lifting his nose in the air in a haughty impression.

“We never really had much to do with each other back at Hogwarts, but I would say you have,” she agreed. “Listen, Draco, I wanted to tell you...I think you’re doing a really great job with the team.”

Draco’s eyes were torn away from the pool where he’d been watching several more nervous children trickle out of the changing room and be ushered over to the paddling pool and begin splashing one another. He didn’t respond, instead giving her a look of surprise at the unsolicited compliment.

“We all got along before, but we never quite...clicked. I know we’ve still got a long way to go, but I can tell we’ve already made a ton of improvement and it’s starting to feel like, just maybe, we won’t be complete crap this season.”

“Well, thank you, Ginevra. I’m pleased to know that I perhaps won’t have to run back to Britain with my tail between my legs, an abject failure.”

“I didn’t say that...let’s see where we place this season,” Ginny smirked at him. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me ‘Ginevra’.”

“Now that I cannot do. A name that elegant deserves to be savoured. Ginevra,” he whispered, letting the name roll over his tongue, drawing it out. “Fair one,” Draco turned, inspecting Ginny’s face where he was sure he could see a faint blush on her cheeks behind the curtain of her hair. “It suits you.”

He let a moment pass for her to appreciate the compliment before adding, “Besides, ‘Ginny’ means ‘virginal’, and I highly doubt that name is appropriate.” He smiled to himself as the sputtering sound beside him flowed into a rich laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, taking a seat behind them, one level up.

“Draco was just implying I’m a slag,” Ginny answered, a wicked gleam in her eye as she smirked at Draco.

Draco twisted around to better face Harry and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I did no such thing!” he objected. Harry eyed the pair of them for a few moments but when Ginny laughed, he seemed to decide that her honour was not in need of defending.

Draco turned back around and his foot landed on the corner of the bag of Popcorn Twists he’d bought. “Ooooo, I love those!” Ginny said excitedly. “I’ll forgive that terribly rude dig at me you made if you share them with me.”

“If you recall, that clever _joke_ came right after I paid you a compliment,” he said as he bent down and grabbed the bag from between his feet, “but, nonetheless, I’ll still share. So these are good then?”

“They’re amaaaaaazzzzing,” Ginny effused as she snatched the bag from Draco’s hand and ripped it open. She reached in and took out one of the twists, which resembled a miniature ginger root. Draco watched as she slowly placed the salty snack on her tongue and closed her mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head. “They practically melt in your mouth.”

“Do you and the crisps need some time alone,” he drolled.

“I sometimes wonder whether if she had to choose between me and Popcorn Twists, she’d give me the boot,” Harry joked.

“It would be a heart-wrenching decision,” Ginny agreed with solemnity.

Intrigued, Draco held the bag up and offered one to Harry, then removed one for himself. He took a sniff, but they didn’t seem to have a notable smell, just slightly salty. He tentatively placed it on his tongue and he could see what she meant. He could feel the fine lattice structure of the puffed snack start to give way as it absorbed moisture from his mouth. He chewed what was left and enjoyed the mild sweetness that seemed to compliment the salty coating. She was right: they were really good.

The bag didn’t last long—especially split three ways—and once they were gone, he tucked the empty wrapper into his pocket to throw away later and then refocused on the lessons which had now started. Lyra’s class were lined up along the edge of the pool, their torsos on the pool deck and their legs stretched out and practicing kicking in the water.

Over in the regular pool, he could see Teddy in the shallow end with the older students. The group was waiting together at the shallow end to take their turn swimming across the length of the pool in a front stroke. As he watched, Teddy’s head disappeared and his feet shot up in the air and began wading through the pool as he performed a walking handstand underwater.

“Classic Teddy. More interested in showing off than learning to swim,” Harry chuckled as he watched his godson come spluttering back up. “He reminds me of Tonks at times like this.”

Ginny leaned back and threw her arm on Harry’s thigh, leaning her head on her crooked arm. “Me too.”

Draco watched the pair, who were wearing matching fond smiles, obviously reliving happy memories of his cousin. “I regret that I never got the chance to meet my cousin,” he lamented. “What was she like?”

The rest of the lesson passed by in a blur as Ginny and Harry recounted their happy memories and stories of Nymphadora for Draco. They shared with him the story of how his cousin had met their one-time Professor when they were both a part of the Order of the Phoenix and had fallen in love, her Patronus even changing shape. Draco drank in the stories, trying to commit them all to memory, knowing that it was the best he’d ever get when it came to Nymphadora. It was yet another item on a long list of regrets from his early life, especially since, from the stories they told, Nymphadora—Tonks, as he now knew she demanded to be called—sounded like a wonderful person to have been around. He envied them the time they’d had with her.

“Did Teddy inherit her Metamorphmagus abilities?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. “It’s too early to know for sure. Andromeda said that Nymphadora didn’t start expressing her talent until she was 8 or 9, so it’s still a possibility. And, no, he isn’t a werewolf either.”

Draco rolled his eyes and glared at Harry. “Lycanthropy isn’t an inheritable disease.” Harry looked surprised and Draco scoffed, “If you’d ever paid attention in school you would know that.”

“I just figured...well...people tend to think he’s going to be dangerous somehow. It’s part of the reason why Andromeda thought it would be good for Teddy to be raised over here. She couldn’t take him out anywhere in Wizarding England without people whispering under their breaths. We didn’t want Teddy to grow up dealing with all that prejudice.”

Draco nodded in understanding, remembering the vitriol with which his father had spoken of werewolves. Voldemort had been happy to appease them to their face to strengthen his ranks, but as soon as they were out of earshot, he made it clear that they were a necessary, but temporary, evil. Had Voldemort not been stopped it was only a matter of time before he would have systematically wiped out the other magical species.

Lyra was kicking her legs, propelling herself through the “deep end” of the kiddie pool with her upper body resting on a flutter board when the instructor blew the whistle, indicating that the class was over. She swam over to the side of the pool and piled her board on top of the others, then climbed out of the pool and started running over to him.

A shout of “No running!” came from the instructor and Lyra slowed down to a speed walk, hustling over to him. Before he could hold out a towel for her, she had squeezed between his legs and her arms were resting on his thighs, the inside of his pant legs getting wet where they rubbed against her bathing suit.

“Did you watch me?” she asked eagerly and Draco nodded.

“You bet I did! You’re a natural, sweetheart,” he assured her, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead.

“Can we stay a little longer? Teddy promised he would show me how to go down the waterslide!”

“I wouldn’t want you to miss that. So sure, we can stay a little while longer.”

“YAAAYYYYY!” she shouted as she turned around and hustled toward the far side of the pool where Teddy was climbing up the pool ladder, his class having just ended. They had a brief exchange and then Teddy waved at the three of them before taking Lyra’s hand and leading her over to a staircase that led up to the top of the water slide.

“Are you two coming over for dinner on Sunday?” Ginny asked, a smile on her face as she watched their two children disappear around a bend in the stairs.

“We’ll be there,” he promised. They didn’t go out to the farm every Sunday, but they were frequent guests. “We might be a bit late though. I have an appointment in the afternoon.”

“What kind of appointment?” Ginny asked.

“Gin! That’s kind of rude...what if it’s personal?” Harry sighed.

Ginny scoffed, “Then he just tells me to mind my own business.”

Draco laughed. “It’s nothing scandalous. I’m just interviewing potential driving instructors.”

“You’re learning to drive?” Harry asked incredulously.

“See, now aren’t you glad I asked?” Ginny smirked at him.

Draco sighed. “I was hoping to avoid it, but my next door neighbour is quite snoopy and seems to be getting suspicious that I don’t drive. Anastasia never taught me that since the Tube was so convenient in London, but it seems to be much more...commonplace here.”

Harry chuckled. “Tell me about it! One of the favourite activities for the local kids is to go ‘cruising’ on Main Street at night.”

“What is ‘cruising’, exactly?” Draco asked.

“They start at the mall and drive down to the end of Main Street before turning around and driving back up to the mall,” Ginny answered.

“Then what?”

“Then they do it again,” Harry said, shaking his head.

Draco was confused. “To what end?”

They both shrugged. “There’s not a lot to do around here, and even less if you’re under 19.” Ginny laughed, “I guess it’s better than having sex in an abandoned farmhouse somewhere.”

“Is it though?” Harry asked with a cheeky grin on his face, and Draco laughed.

“I was always a fan of empty classrooms myself,” Ginny retorted.

“We never had sex in any empty classrooms at Hogwarts,” Harry countered, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Who said it was with you?” Ginny replied, a smug look on her face.

“Yeah, well...some of us were busy trying to not get killed every year, and competing in prestigious tournaments, and teaching underground DADA lessons, and—”

“That’s it!” Ginny interrupted, sounding excited. “Harry can teach you how to drive!”

“Oh, I don’t…”

“That’s not…”

Harry and Draco spoke at the same time, obviously both thinking this was hardly a clever idea, but Ginny would not be deterred, “No, it’s perfect! This way you don’t have to waste money on an instructor and you can learn the basics out on the grids where there’s basically nobody around for miles.”

“Why don’t you teach him, Gin?” Harry proposed.

Ginny shook her head. “I’m total crap at that stuff. I always let my temper get away from me and then it just devolves into a shouting match. Remember the time I tried to teach Ron how to use a telephone? He had a black eye for weeks.”

Draco’s eyes shot open in shock. “Did you hit him?”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Ginny protested, but Harry’s snort from behind them seemed to disagree. “We got into a bit of a tug-o-war with the receiver and then I let go and it flew back and hit him in the face.”

That story did not make Draco keen on trying to learn to drive from Ginny. If she could do that much damage with a simple phone, he didn’t want to imagine what could be the result of having a deadly vehicle involved.

“Harry’s a fantastic teacher though! He managed to teach all of us in the DA how to produce fully corporeal Patronuses during fifth year when that bitch Umbridge wasn’t teaching us anything useful.”

Draco was even shocked, “I never knew that. That’s...well that’s really impressive actually.”

Fortunately, none of them brought up the fact that Draco had been busy dedicating that year to being as spiteful and power-mad as he could be and had been pivotal in destroying their Dumbledore’s Army group.

Harry shrugged his shoulders self-deprecatingly, looking uncomfortable with the praise. “It wasn’t anything special. Anyone could have done it.”

“That’s just it, they couldn’t have. If it had been me teaching, we would have dissolved into flinging hexes at each other. You’re a good teacher, Harry.” She reached out and pinched his side. “Learn to take a compliment.”

When Harry yipped at her attack and squirmed away, Ginny shot Draco an amused grin. “So, what do you think?”

Draco hedged, watching Harry to try to determine whether he was feeling put upon. Harry wouldn’t look at him, but he wasn’t putting up any protests to the idea either. “If Harry would be willing...it would save me having to find an instructor…”

“You’d be happy to, right Harry?” Ginny prompted.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his feet when he answered, “Sure, I guess.”

“Great!” Ginny beamed as she patted Harry on the knee.

  
_This should be interesting_ , Draco thought.


	7. Chapter 7

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. Thanks for coming in.”

Draco took the proffered hand of Lyra’s teacher and gave it a few firm pumps. Mr. Gardner took a seat behind his desk and Draco pulled the chair out from behind one of the student’s desks in front of him and took a seat.

He realized his mistake when his butt sank so low that his knees were practically at eye level. He felt ridiculous, and given the smirk of amusement on the teacher’s face, he looked it too.

Draco mustered all the powers of his self-esteem and held his head up. “What did you need to talk to me about, Mr. Gardner?”

The man stood up and rolled his chair around to the front of the desk, offering it to Draco, before lifting himself up and sitting on his desk. “Please, call me Brent.”

“Draco,” he responded, gratefully pulling himself up from his low squat and taking a seat in the much more comfortable chair.

“Draco. That’s Latin for ‘dragon’ if I’m not mistaken?” When Draco nodded, Brent continued, “That’s an interesting name. Very strong. And dragons often represent wisdom.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow, the man chuckled and ran one hand through his thick hair, which had grown out some since Draco had met him on the first day of school. “What can I say? I’m a teacher; I have a fondness for symbols of wisdom.”

Draco looked down, pretending to inspect his nails as he responded, “I like to think it’s because I’m wise, but it’s more likely that it’s because I have a tendency to breathe fire when I’m provoked.”

Brent gave him a wide smile that had Draco examining the man’s mouth in interest. Thick lips that begged to be sucked. And nipped. And wrapped around a thick—Draco cut that train of thought off. It had been almost six months now since Draco had last had sex and his libido was starting to demand attention, but having an erection during a parent-teacher conference was hardly appropriate.

“I’ll be sure to stay on your good side then,” Brent said rather suggestively. Draco squirmed in the chair when the man’s eyes darted down to Draco’s lap for a moment before flickering back up. He cleared his throat roughly and then changed the topic. “I called you in because I wanted to let you know that Lyra has had a bit of an episode today.”

Draco’s mind was yanked away from the rather appealing image it had been painting of him getting down on his knees and opening the man’s belt with his teeth like he’d been tossed into an ice-cold shower. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Brent raised his hands in an easing gesture as Draco leaned forward in his chair, staring at the man with laser-focused intensity. “She’s perfectly fine. She came to me just after lunch and said she was feeling an attack coming on and that she needed to go to her quiet room, so I excused her. I have been checking on her periodically during the afternoon and she says she’s fine, but she won’t let me in.”

Draco breathed a sigh of relief and sank back in the chair. He’d made sure that she had a safe place to retreat to if her magic started to swell, but it hadn’t been an issue for months and he had gotten complacent, thinking he had just been overly concerned. He was glad now that he had had the foresight to lay the groundwork with the school.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of condition does she suffer from?”

Draco tried to remember the story he’d decided on months ago. “She suffers from terrible migraines. She usually has a few moments’ notice, but once they kick in, the only thing that helps is a dark, quiet space.”

“Ah, well hopefully my knocking didn’t cause her any discomfort.”

The man looked upset, chewing nervously on one side of his bottom lip, and Draco hurried to soothe him, “I’m sure it didn’t. Thank you for checking in on her. I’ll just go see if she’s feeling better.”

Draco stood up and hurried over to the door of the classroom and was just about to open it when the man behind him stopped him. “Wait! I was wondering…”

Draco turned around and waited impatiently, anxious to get to Lyra, for the man to spit it out.

“I was just wondering if you would want to go for coffee sometime.”

Draco had not been expecting a request for a date and he didn’t know what to say at first. At least...he thought this was a date...or was it?

“On a date,” Brent added as if he had skills in Legilimency.

“Oh, well…” Draco hedged.

“Sorry! I thought I had picked up on a vibe between us. I’m really sorry if I have offended you,” Brent backpedalled quickly, seeming concerned that he had offended Draco by asking him out.

Draco made up his mind and decided to listen to his gut—he really had been hanging out with Gryffindors way too often. “Yes. Yes, I would like that. How does Saturday afternoon work for you?”

Lyra and Teddy had begged to have a sleepover on Saturday night and so Draco, miraculously, had an evening to himself.

“Saturday would be great!” Brent gushed and Draco couldn’t help but be flattered at how the man’s face lit up with excitement. “I’ll call you on Friday to work out the details.”

Draco nodded. “My number is—”

“I already have it,” he interrupted and Draco raised one eyebrow at the admission. The man’s cheeks flushed in response and he muttered, “Phone tree.”

“I appreciate your resourcefulness,” Draco drawled before taking his exit and walking down the hall to the magicked broom closet.

He knocked lightly on the door and whispered, “Lyra? It’s me,” before he turned the handle and slipped inside. He felt his mouth drop open as he took stock of the room. The various brooms and mops were dancing around the room of their own accord, as if in a reenactment of that Muggle cartoon. He could see Lyra on the other side of the room sitting on the cot with her back to the wall and her arms wrapped around her bent legs.

He removed his wand from his arm holster and swung it in the air, levitating the dancing cleaning implements over to the corner and rendering them immobile. He took three quick steps to cross the room, settled carefully onto the cot, and reached out to set a hand on his daughter’s knee. He’d barely touched her when she was scrambling over and into his lap and he breathed a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I tried to make them stop, but they wouldn’t,” she wheezed out, her voice thick from crying.

“Shhhhhh,” he soothed, running one hand up and down her back and cupping the back of her head with the other. “It’s okay. You did everything right. You did wonderfully, sweetheart.”

“But I didn’t mean to make the brooms dance,” she cried.

“That’s okay. This kind of thing happens to all witches and wizards,” he consoled.

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

Draco chuckled. “Really. The first time my magic bubbled over, I accidentally turned my father’s hair pink!”

Lyra giggled and looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. Bubblegum pink. He didn’t notice and I was too scared to tell him and then the Minister for Magic showed up for a meeting at the Manor and commended him on the bold choice.” Lyra giggled again, fears forgotten, and then got a mischievous look on her face. “Now don’t you be getting any ideas, young lady,” he warned.

He certainly wasn’t keen on the idea of pink hair, but he would deal with it better than his father had. Lucius had laughed it off with the Minister, but once the door to the Manor had swung shut and there was no one else around he had punished Draco with three sharp raps of his walking cane to Draco’s bum. He’d promised himself that he was going to be the father to Lyra that he wished he’d had.

“Come on, let’s go home. What should we have for dinner tonight?” he asked as he set her down on her feet and stood up.

“Ummm,” she hummed as she considered the question. “KD!”

Draco rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered to ask anymore as it seemed that all she wanted to eat right now was the cheesy pasta dish. If he’d let her, she would eat it for every meal. “Fine, but only if we have steamed broccoli with it.”

She pouted for a moment, but gave in quickly, shrugging her shoulders and peppily agreeing with a “‘kay”.

He led them out of the small broom closet and down the hallway, stopping to pop his head into her classroom. “She’s fine now,” he reassured Brent. “Thanks again.”

Brent smiled and waved at Lyra, who happily waved back before running off down the hall towards the double doors. Brent held his hand to his ear and mouthed ‘I’ll call you’ and Draco nodded and then followed after his daughter.

  


***

  


Draco inspected himself in the mirror for probably the seventeenth time and scrutinized his appearance. It had taken him a disproportionate amount of time to choose his outfit, his nerves getting the better of him. It had been so long since he had been on a date that he was finding himself fretting that the whole thing was going to be a disaster.

After countless combinations, and with practically his entire wardrobe spread out on the cover of his bed, he had finally settled on a charcoal grey V-neck sweater over a pale, lavender button-up, paired with a simple pair of pale grey, tweed trousers and a thin, black, leather belt. He pivoted from side-to-side, inspecting the outfit from all angles, and had to admit that he looked good. The colour of the shirt made the grey colour of his eyes pop, and the cut of the pants accentuated his high, tight butt.

He squeezed his glutes a few times and was pleased with the effect. He’d been taking advantage of the private gym that the Meteorite’s club maintained when he’d no longer been able to ignore the paunch he had been developing and now, after several months, he felt like his body was returning back to the top state it had been when he was playing Quidditch professionally.

“Bugger!” he yelled as his eyes happened over the alarm beside his bed and he realized that he was going to be late. _Hopefully, my bum proves as distracting for Brent as it has for myself_ , he thought to himself as he jogged down the stairs, smiling. He settled on a waist-length, black leather jacket—which conveniently showed off his assets—and let himself out the front door, turning around to lock it with the key when he noticed Mrs. Oxborrow sitting out on her porch reading the newspaper.

“Looking good, Draco, dear!” she shouted as he jogged down his front steps and sped hastily down the sidewalk. He chuckled and waved over one shoulder at the ever-present neighbour. He still felt mildly uncomfortable that she seemed to be ever-present, but he had realized that it was just a matter of small-town friendliness. The woman had come through on her promise to deliver several batches of her famous shortbread, and if Draco had to spend a few extra hours in the gym to make up for it, they were well worth it.

Draco didn’t want to risk Apparating into the busy downtown area where they had agreed to meet for coffee, so he had decided to walk the thirty or so minutes over to the coffee shop that they had agreed to meet at. He walked quickly, not wanting to give Brent the impression that he had been stood up, but he made sure to keep his pace moderate enough that he wouldn’t be a sweaty, red mess by the time he got there. The crisp, October weather helped to cool him, an insistent breeze blowing across the prairie province.

He arrived at last and took a moment to talk himself up before he pulled open the glass door of the small cafe and looked around. At first, he didn’t see the light brown hair and his heart sank at the thought that he had been stood up, but then a woman sitting at one of the small tables against the wall stood up and he spotted what he thought was the hunched over form of Brent.

He weaved his way through the tables and came up behind him, resting his hand on the man’s shoulder. Brent’s head shot up to look at him and he smiled brightly at Draco. “You made it! I was hoping you weren’t going to stand me up.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Draco apologized as he let his hand slip down Brent’s shoulder until his fingers broke contact reluctantly. He could feel the lean lines of muscles under the man’s hunter green sweater and he wanted more time to explore them. “Can I get you a refill?” he asked, gesturing to the oversized ceramic white mug in front of him that appeared to be almost empty.

“That would be great, thanks Draco. Double-double,” Brent requested after he had taken one last swig of the remaining coffee in his mug, finishing it off.

Draco took the cup from him and promised he’d be right back. He made his way up to the cashier and waited as the woman in front of him ordered her coffee. His eyes snagged on the mirror that was hung on the wall behind the counter and he smiled smugly to himself as he watched Brent inspecting his bum while he thought he wasn’t being watched. Draco flexed and watched as Brent subconsciously licked his lips, giving Draco a rush of pleasure and hope that coffee may lead to other activities this evening.

Draco got lost in his imaginations and didn’t realize that it was his turn until he finally noticed the barista waving at him. Startled, he stepped forward and ordered another double-double for Brent and a Vanilla Earl Grey brewed tea for himself. Retrieving the beverages, he made his way back over to the table and set the cups carefully down before slipping off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair.

He caught a quick glimpse at the papers that Brent was gathering up and sliding into a soft, leather briefcase. “Marking?” he asked.

Brent laughed. “Lesson plans, actually. Life of a teacher...work never ends.”

“My godfather was a professor,” Draco stated, remembering all those hours down in the dungeons with Snape teaching them Potions.

“So then you know what it’s like.” Brent took a small sip of his coffee and then, finding it too bitter, ripped open a packet of sugar from the dispenser on the table and poured in about half.

“Mmm,” Draco hummed, “I don’t think he liked it much, though. I’m fairly certain he disliked children on principle.”

Brent laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corner. “Sounds like a teacher. Everyone always thinks their child is a precious angel, but some of them act like devils.” At Draco’s dirty look, he quickly added, “Not Lyra though! She really is an angel.”

Draco chuckled, letting the man off the hook. He wrapped his hands around his mug, warming his fingers from the chilly walk over, and leaned forward, staring intently at the adorable, flustered man in front of him. “Reassure me of my superior parenting skills. Tell me some of your teaching horror stories.”

Brent leaned forward, bringing their heads closer together. “Well, last year, I had one student who…”

 

***

 

“God, your skin is soft,” Brent moaned as he pulled away from their kiss.

“Mmm,” Draco murmured, biting his way down the tendon in the other man’s neck before working his way back and up to his ear. “I bathe in the blood of virgins to keep it that way,” he whispered, taking the lobe between his teeth after he’d finished.

Brent groaned and turned his head, giving Draco better access. “That didn’t turn out so well for Countess Bathory in the long run.”

Draco pulled back and shot an impressed look at the man beneath him. It wasn’t the first time that day that the man had displayed an impressive breadth of knowledge. He seemed to be very well read, and Draco found it incredibly attractive. “Very true,” he agreed, “Which is why I settled for moisturizer instead.”

Brent chuckled until Draco reclaimed his mouth and swallowed the groan he let out. They laid there for long minutes, Draco stretched out on top of him, grinding their cocks together until he could feel the man’s hard length beneath his own, tongues undulating against one another.

“Perhaps we should...move this somewhere...more comfortable?” Brent ventured between plunges of Draco’s tongue.

Draco gave a particularly strong swivel of his hips, eliciting a moan of delight from the other man. “This feels perfect right where we are,” he subtly declined, reclaiming Brent’s mouth to forestall any protestations. The truth was that Draco wasn’t quite ready to invite someone up to his bedroom—it felt too intimate for a first date. He had already decided he wanted a second date, but it felt safer to keep this in the living room for now.

He let the kiss dissipate into an almost chaste brushing of lips before he pulled back, kneeling with one leg on the couch between Brent’s spread legs. He stared at his date, taking a moment to appreciate the warm flush in his skin and the swell of his lips, swollen from their extended make-out session. Brent’s pale brown hair was sticking out at all angles and the thought flitted across Draco’s mind that it reminded him of Harry’s persistently chaotic locks.

Draco discarded the stray thought and refocused on the man below him, locking eyes and enjoying the boiling tension that permeated the space between them. Moving his hands slowly, Draco lifted his arms and began unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, not rushing the teasing action.

Brent sat up abruptly and pulled his sweater over his head, discarding the garment on the floor beside them without a care. His hands darted forward and grabbed a hold of Draco’s hips, pulling him in towards him and rubbing the tip of his nose down Draco’s sternum, taking a deep lungful of Draco’s scent.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned, eliciting a wicked laugh from Draco, who still had half of his buttons left to undo.

Draco left his task, running one hand around to the back of Brent’s neck and up through the thick waves. He tightened his hand into a fist and pulled Brent’s head back in a quick burst, a sibilant sound slipping out from between his teeth. Draco leaned down and licked along Brent’s top lip, enjoying the panting breaths that belied the man’s excitement. When Brent leaned forward to try to seal their lips together once more, Draco pulled back with a tut and then spread his other hand wide in the middle of the man’s chest, pushing him back down into a reclining position on the couch.

“What’s your hurry?” Draco taunted as he went back to the slow slide of buttons through their holes.

Brent reached up and crossed his arms behind his head—whether to curb the temptation to reach out and touch or to relax and enjoy the show, Draco didn’t care—and licked his lips, looking as if he could still taste Draco on them. Draco swept his eyes over the sinewy chest and stomach, which was dusted with a thin layer of hair. The skin was barely clinging to the fading remnants of a summer tan, the freckles sprinkling the expanse only a shade darker than the skin surrounding them. Nothing like the bold marks that peppered Ginny’s fair complexion.

Draco refocused on those eyes, the blue irises surrounded by white resembled an inverted fine china design. His pupils were dilated, yet another sign of his arousal—as if the tenting of his jeans weren’t hint enough. The tease was losing its appeal for Draco, and he hastened to remove the rest of the buttons from their containment, eager to feel skin on skin.

Brent’s eyes flared wide in an instant before his brows drew together in confusion. Draco was ready for the reaction; it wasn’t the first time he’d gotten it. “What happened there?” Brent asked, the previous huskiness of his voice replaced with a note of concern.

“An old school injury,” Draco dismissed. “It’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t hurt.”

Brent’s right hand emerged from behind his head and reached forward, his fingertips tracing over one of the long, white scars that stretched across his torso. “Did you have a lion training class or something?” Brent asked.

Draco appreciated that he didn’t apologize or try to console him like some of his past lovers had done, though he could still hear the subtle trace of pity in his voice. He hated pity. Draco grabbed his hand and crashed down on top of him, pinning Brent’s arm to the cushion above his head and hovering over him. “Something like that,” Draco smirked—the man wasn’t that far off the mark.

“I also have some experience with snake charming.” Draco undulated his groin against Brent’s to emphasize his point, the rough denim material of Brent’s jeans coarse against his lower stomach.

“You do, eh?” Brent breathed. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to put on a demonstration?”

Grinning with promise, Draco leaned to the side and reached down between them to unbutton first Brent’s, and then his own pants, wishing for a split-second that he could just vanish their clothes. There were certain benefits to having sex with magical people rather than Muggles.

Impatient, he finally managed to release both of their fastenings and shuffle their trousers and underwear down. Draco settled on top of Brent once more and lined up their cocks, wrapping his hand around them and stroking slowly. Brent groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head, exposing the whites of his eyes and pulling a self-satisfied smile from Draco.

He released his own cock and sat up, settling on Brent’s thighs and focusing on him. After spitting in his hand—lube spells, another benefit of wizards that he missed—he gave Brent’s cock a few swift pumps and then stopped, circling his thumb around the glans and then down to stroke the sensitive underside where the glans met the shaft. Wrapping his hand around the shaft once more, he returned to the up and down stroking motions, placing his other hand over the top so that the glans rested in the palm of his hand. At the precipice of each upward stroke, he completed the motion with a quick twist of both of his hands and Brent grabbed onto the back of the couch as he leapt closer to orgasming.

Brent squirmed underneath him, his back arching into the touch and Draco backed off, pushing the erect cock up to lie flat against Brent’s flat stomach. Draco held the cock down with one hand and reached down with the other to fondle his testicles, juggling the globes in his hand before circling his thumb and index finger around the base. He gradually slid his hand down, exerting a steady pulling motion until the skin was pulled taut, held them for a few beats, and then released his hold, letting them settle back to their normal position.

“Fuck, Draco,” Brent hissed, his head thrown back against the sofa leaving nothing but the underside of his chin visible from Draco’s vantage point.

“Does that feel good?” he asked smugly, confident of the response.

“God, yes!” Brent confirmed his suspicions. “You’re killing me!”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Draco tutted before he ran his fingers down and pressed against Brent’s perineum. He circled his fingers and pressed inwards, massaging the area until he found the right spot and Brent’s dick flexed against its restraint. Draco wrapped his hand around the straining flesh once more and recommenced the slow and steady slide, keeping the motions of his two hands going at the same pace. Brent’s slit was leaking a stream of pre-ejaculate, sliding down the glans and easing the motion of his hand.

Draco felt the muscles of Brent’s thighs seize beneath him, his entire body going rigid and immobile for a split-second before, with a groan, his prick started jerking and strips of milky ejaculate painted Brent’s chest and stomach. Draco slowed the strokes to a stop but kept his fist encircled in a tight grip around the glans, droplets of come dripping onto his fingers as he continued a slow, circular prostate massage with the other, stretching out the orgasm as long as he could.

Finally, Brent’s body stopped jerking and he melted back into the couch cushions, wrung out. “Fuck,” he murmured, breaths coming heavy and forehead glowing with a sheen of perspiration. “I don’t think I can move.”

Draco sat up, his own erection demanding attention now that he was no longer focused on doling out pleasure to the man below him. “I want you to watch me while I come all over you,” he growled before he spat on his hand and took a firm hold of his own weeping cock.

Draco didn’t tease himself like he had Brent, instead, he yanked mercilessly on his cock, the deep red head peeking out and retreating back into the dark cave of his fist. Draco watched Brent watching him, smirking when Brent’s flagging prick twitched, depleted but still enlivened by a spark of desire at the sight of Draco jerking off above him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Brent croaked and Draco groaned, throwing his head back as he let his hand loose to fly over his straining flesh. Draco slipped the middle finger of his left hand into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and coating it in saliva before sliding it down the crack of his ass to circle the tight pucker of his asshole.

“Beg me for it,” Draco gritted out, circling the finger around the furled ridge of his hole, waiting for the right moment. “Beg me for my come.”

“Please, Draco, I want it. I want you to cum on me,” he acceded, rubbing his spread palm in circles around his torso, rubbing his own come into his skin. “Come on, baby, come for me.”

Draco was taking great heaving breaths now, the orgasm swirling at the base of his spine, threatening to erupt from him at any moment. He plunged his finger through the tight vise of his ass and thrust a few times, “Fuck!” Draco yelled, tipping over the point of no return, his balls jerking as his release shot out of him, applying a second coat to Brent’s lightly freckled skin.

He let the last waves of pleasure ebb away from him and then he settled back down on Brent’s thighs as his breathing settled back to a more normal rhythm. “Baby?” he asked, one eyebrow drawing up in an interrogative look. “It’s a little early for pet names, isn’t it?”

Brent snorted. “That’s a weird question to ask when your come is drying on my skin, don’t you think?”

Draco grinned at him and then shuffled off of him, pushing up to stand beside the couch before leaning back down and kissing Brent’s mouth, tangling their tongues together once more. “Fair point. Don’t move, I’ll get you a cloth to wash up,” he whispered before pushing himself back up. Skirting around the coffee table, Draco made his way to the kitchen, pulling up and doing up his pants as he went.

By the time he returned to the living room, warm washcloth in hand, Brent was standing up with his pants refastened. He held his hand out for the cloth, but instead of passing it over, Draco walked up and wiped it in several thorough swipes across Brent’s chest and stomach, cleaning away the residue of their rendezvous.

“There, all clean again,” Draco said, slipping his arms up and over Brent’s shoulders, pulling their bodies together for another passionate kiss, Brent’s warm palms coming up to rub up and down the skin of Draco’s back. After several minutes of unhurried exploration, Brent pulled back, hands resting on Draco’s hip bones.

“I should go,” Brent sighed, darting in to give Draco another peck on the lips before he pulled away. Bending over, he grabbed his sweater off the floor and flipped it the right way out before pulling it on over his head. He ran both hands through his hair, straightening it, and Draco felt a pang of sadness, already missing the sex-mussed look it had a minute ago.

“I’ll show you out,” Draco said, taking Brent’s hand, even though it was only about a five meters’ walk to the front door.

“When can I see you again?” Brent asked as they stood in front of the door. His smile was bright and open and eager and Draco felt his own face fighting to mirror the expression.

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to play it cool?” Draco countered teasingly.

“I spend a large portion of my day wearing hand puppets. ‘Cool’ is a lost cause for me,” Brent rolled his eyes, smile still in place.

Draco pulled open the door and held it open as Brent crossed the threshold. “Lyra has swim class on Thursday night at the Sportsplex. We could grab a quick drink then,” Draco suggested. Brent looked pleased and he leaned forward, pecking Draco on the cheek.

“I can’t wait!” he beamed. He turned away and started making his way down the steps, but just before Draco closed the door, he called after him in a low voice—low enough that he hoped Mrs. Oxborrow wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Oh, and puppets sound like they could be a lot of fun. Lots of soft materials for teasing,” he suggested silkily. He laughed to himself at the conflicting looks of arousal and aversion on Brent’s face as he closed the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I have had it done for a few days, but was kept busy with other things. The next chapter is in progress!

Draco was just pulling on his sweater when he heard the obnoxious honk of the horn outside. He ignored it and finished pulling on his sweater before walking over to the mirror in the entryway and running his hands through his hair—he needed a haircut.

The horn blared again and Draco rolled his eyes, returning to inspecting himself once more in the mirror. He looked more relaxed than he had in a while. Felt more relaxed, too. Toe-curling orgasms will do that for you, Draco thought to himself, a secret smile wisping across his lips at the memory of last night.

He jumped when the twinkling bells of the doorbell went off right above him. And then again. And again. Draco felt a precious piece of that hard to come by relaxation break off him and he strode over to the door and yanked it open. Harry stumbled forward, his arm lifted and about to knock on the door and Draco found himself smirking at the peeved look on Potter’s face.

“Didn’t you hear me honking?” he asked as he dropped his hand to his side and shot Draco an annoyed look.

“Yes,” Draco replied, his face carefully arranged to not betray any of his thoughts.

Potter’s annoyance ratcheted up a notch, much to Draco’s amusement. He lifted his hand once more, but this time to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, pushing the frames of his (admittedly, much more fashionable) glasses further up his nose. “Then WHY didn’t you come outside?”

“It’s polite to come to the door, you prat.” Draco stepped outside, pushing Harry out of the way, and then turned around to lock his front door.

“This isn’t a date, Draco,” Harry huffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Lucky for you,” Draco replied smugly. “I feel bad for poor Ginevra. The woman is probably starved for romance.”

“I’ll have you know that we don’t have any problems in that ar—”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Oxborrow,” Draco interrupted Harry’s outraged retort and waved over at the ever-present neighbour, who was raking the leaves into a large pile on her front lawn.

“Hello, Draco, dear,” she called back, hands crossing over the round end of her rake before resting her chin on them. “Who is your friend?”

“‘Friend’ is such a strong word,” he answered, chuckling to himself at the annoyed sigh that came from over his shoulder.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Harry greeted her as he jogged down the steps and across the narrow strip of lawn to the low fence that separated their properties. “I’m Harry Potter.”

Mrs. Oxborrow eyed him up and down for a moment but seemed pleased with what she saw. She dropped the rake to the ground and crossed her lawn to shake Harry’s outstretched hand over the fence. “Marjorie. I’m happy to know that Draco has a nice lad like you for a friend. He spends too much time alone.”

Draco bristled at the mild rebuke. “I’m rarely alone, you know,” he muttered, not wanting to be rude to the intrusive, but kind-hearted, woman.

“It’s not healthy for you to spend all of your time with your daughter,” Mrs. Oxborrow clucked. “You need to have friends your own age.”

“Yeah, Draco. You need friends to play with,” Harry crowed, laughing when Draco shot him a dirty look.

“Pleasure as always, Mrs. Oxborrow,” Draco offered the platitude as he pulled Harry away from the fence and towards the street.

“It was nice meeting you, Harry!” she called after them. Draco didn’t look back, intent to pull Harry away before he gathered more ammunition to tease him with.

“You too, Mrs. Oxborrow. Hopefully we can talk for longer next time!” Harry called back, yanking his arm away from Draco to wave back at the woman.

“Which one of these is yours, then?” Draco grumbled, eyeing the row of metal beasts lining the street in front of his house.

Still chuckling, Harry pointed to the left, fortunately in the opposite direction of Mrs. Oxborrow’s yard. Draco’s relief was short-lived when he noticed which vehicle Harry was approaching, circling around to the driver’s side door facing the street. “Why am I not surprised?” Draco snarked as he trudged toward the passenger side door of the enormous, Gryffindor-red vehicle.

Draco reached up and jerked on the door handle, yanking on it several times—if he couldn’t even open the stupid door, it didn’t bode well for the driving lesson. It wasn’t until he looked through the tinted window and saw Potter sitting there with a devilish grin on his face that he realized he was being messed with. Draco glared back at the annoying git until he laughed and Draco heard a clunking sound from behind the metal sheet. He tried the door again and this time it opened with no difficulty.

Draco stepped up onto the small step to give himself enough height to climb into the cab of the truck and pulled the door shut behind him. “You can be a real prat sometimes, do you know that?”

Harry shrugged and continued grinning even as he turned the key and started the enormous vehicle up. “Old habits die hard. It’s always so much fun getting a rise out of you.”

Draco held his nose in the air and turned around in his seat, inspecting the backseat which could sit three people if it weren’t for the child seat that was buckled in behind Harry’s seat. He could see through the back window that the flatbed of the truck was empty. “Leave it to you to drive around in a monstrosity like this.”

Harry rolled his eyes before turning his head, looking over his shoulder to check for approaching vehicles before pulling out of his parking spot and onto the road. “This is Saskatchewan, Draco. Trucks are a dime a dozen. Besides, it is great for being able to handle the huge dumps of snow that we get every winter.”

“Hmmm, that makes sense, I guess,” Draco admitted. “But I wanted to learn how to drive a car, not a land boat.” Draco knew he was being prickly, but if he were honest with himself, it was because he was starting to feel quite anxious about this whole endeavour. It was always going to be a tense proposition to have Potter and himself locked together in a small space, but his eyes kept trailing over the mind-boggling number of buttons and levers that the truck seemed to have and he was beginning to think that scrapping the whole plan would be a good idea.

Harry didn’t say anything right away and Draco pulled his eyes away from the dashboard he had been inspecting and trying to decode to find that he was watching him with a critical look. “What?” he snapped, forcibly stopping the nervous tapping of his fingers against his thigh. “And shouldn’t you be watching where you’re going?”

Harry’s eyebrows drew together for a moment and then he returned his attention to the road, giving Draco an opportunity to compose himself. “We’re going to go out to one of the grid roads outside of town and let you start there. There won’t be any people or other cars for you to worry about while you get the basics down.”

“Why couldn’t we just do this on your farm?” Draco asked.

Harry slid his eyes to the side and gave Draco an amused look. “We have a Mountie that lives just down the road from us. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to have law enforcement that close in the event that we attack each other.”

Draco snorted, “I suppose you’re not as daft as you look, Potter.”

“Is that any way to talk to your only friend, Draco?” Draco didn’t have to look to know that Harry was wearing a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

***

 

“Okay, turn the key in the ignition.”

Draco took hold of the key and twisted his wrist clockwise as Harry had shown him. A zip of excitement shot through him when the engine turned over and the seat beneath him began vibrating faintly.

“Good, now keep your foot on the brake—the one on the left—and then pull the gear shift towards you and then down until the arrow is over the ‘D’,” Harry continued his instructions. Draco did as he was instructed, nerves beginning to lose ground to a mounting excitement.

“Now, keep your hands at 10 and 2.” Harry mimed grabbing hold of the steering wheel from the passenger seat beside him and Draco mimicked the placement of his hands, grasping firmly onto the steering wheel just above the arm that ran out from the centre to connect to the outer wheel.

“Good, now you are going to want to take your foot off the brake and put it slowly down onto the gas,” Harry continued, his tone surprisingly calm and soothing. Draco had been sure that Harry would be insufferable and snarky and that they would have lunged for each other’s throats by now, but it seemed he was wrong. Harry had been extremely patient, spending the last twenty minutes explaining the function of the various buttons, knobs and levers and calmly answering all of Draco’s questions.

Draco took a deep breath and then slowly lifted his foot off of the brake pedal and shifted it over to the gas. The truck jerked forward a bit, Draco having slightly over-estimated how much pressure he would need to apply, but then the truck’s forward momentum smoothed out and he was actually driving.

“That’s great, Draco. Now, you’re starting to drift to the right here a bit, so you’ll just want to turn the wheel sl—”

Harry was cut off as Draco jerked the wheel hard to the left and the truck veered off the road and down through the ditch.

“THE BRAKE! HIT THE BRAKE!”

There was a short delay before he was able to process Harry’s screamed order and he lifted his foot off the gas and slammed it down on the brake, the truck coming to an abrupt halt about thirty metres into a field.

“WHAT THE FUCK, MALFOY!” Harry had both hands wrapped around the ‘holy shit’ handle on the roof above the window, breaths heaving out of him as he tried to calm his frantically beating heart.

“WOULD YOU STOP SCREAMING!” Draco returned, his own knuckles turning white with the death grip that he had on the steering wheel.

“What do you expect, you prat?!” Harry accused, his voice only a modicum lower in volume than his previous shouts. “You just tried to kill me!”

Draco prised his left hand off of the wheel, slowly slid the gear shift into the ‘P’ position and turned the key, killing the engine and gratefully removing his foot from the brake pedal. “Not everything is about you, you narcissistic berk! Do you really think I would risk my own life just to take yours!” Draco snapped back, anger rushing in to fill the void left by the ebbing adrenaline.

“Well, then why the fuck did you just take us off-roading?!” Harry finally released his grip on the handle and lowered his arms, rubbing his sweaty palms on the denim of his jeans.

“I didn’t know it would do that, obviously! That’s how they always do it in movies and telly!” Draco dropped his head onto the steering wheel and yelped in renewed fear when there was a prolonged blare of the horn before throwing his body back against the seat once more.

There was a beat of silence and then the cab was filled with the sound of a lip trill as Harry began dissolving into a gale of laughter. Draco sat stiffly, watching Harry laugh uproariously for several seconds before he felt a bubble of laughter force its way up his own throat and out of his mouth. Harry and Draco made eye contact and that was all that they needed to unleash the dam on their laughter and really set them going.

They sat there in the middle of the field and laughed for long minutes until tears ran down their face and their stomachs ached with the pains of exertion. Gradually, their manic laughter began to recede and they both wiped the tears from their face.

“Ow, my stomach feels like I’ve just been doing four hours of non-stop crunches,” Draco complained, rubbing his hand around the cramped muscles. “I haven’t laughed like that in years.”

Harry rested his head back against the headrest and then dropped it to the side, turning toward Draco. “I suppose I should have mentioned that you only need to make small corrections of the wheel.”

“Now you tell me.” Draco rolled his eyes, but his lips broke into a smile that was returned to him by Harry.

“Okay. Let’s get back on the road and try that aga—what?” Harry cut off his own question at Draco’s appalled look.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that we continue the lesson after that debacle?” Draco was gobsmacked at Harry’s suggestion.

“Of course we should. How else are you going to learn? I bet you won’t make that mistake again, so now let’s try again.”

Draco didn’t move, but instead just stared at Harry, trying to determine if he was pulling his leg. Harry didn’t speak, just stared back at Draco expectantly, an encouraging, look on his face.

“Still as foolhardy as he was at school,” Draco grumbled sotto voce as he began the series of steps to start the truck up and put it into gear once more.

“Let’s just do a full circle to turn around,” Harry instructed, then in a teasing tone, he tacked on, “In this case, you can crank the wheel.”

Draco reached over and smacked Harry in the arm. “Prat.”

“Both hands on the wheel, Draco.” Harry chuckled and Draco rolled his eyes as he turned the vehicle in a wide arc and drove back at a crawling pace to the road.

 

***

 

“I swear my life flashed before my eyes, Gin!”

Ginny laughed as she sat on the edge of the bed and spread moisturizer over her arms and listened to Harry give an account of his first driving lesson with Draco.

“Was it worse than the time that you managed to convince Hermione to play Quidditch with us at the Burrow?”

Harry stopped to consider that for a moment. The story had reached the status of legend within the Weasley clan: the Christmas that Hermione had partaken in far too much mulled elf wine and had been convinced to join them in a 5-on-5 game of Quidditch and had ended up crashing through the roof of the broom shed. Fortunately, it was mostly her pride that had been injured, but Hermione had steered a wide berth around brooms ever since.

“No, I don’t suppose it was that bad,” Harry conceded. “But it was a miracle that Draco and I managed to not hex each other’s balls off.”

A lascivious smile broke across Ginny’s face as she shifted onto her knees and crawled across the bed and prowled her way up Harry’s body. “Thank goodness for that,” she crooned against his ear as she reached down between his legs and massaged said body part through the fabric of his boxer shorts.

“I guess that explains why Draco was hovering around Lyra like an overprotective mama bear this afternoon,” Ginny quipped as she continued her ministrations, rubbing Harry’s filling cock through the thin fabric. “When Lyra and Teddy wanted to go outside to climb trees, it looked like he wanted to wrap her in a Cushioning Charm.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Harry agreed, eyes slipping closed at the pleasurable sensations Ginny was doling out below his waist.

“He seems like a really good dad, don’t you think?” Ginny continued her lazy handjob as her mind wandered. Draco and Lyra had become regular staples for Sunday dinners now, and Ginny was continually impressed by how good of a parent Draco seemed to be. Ginny hadn’t had as much exposure to Draco at school, but she had been present for enough nasty interactions to have formed a negative opinion of him back then. She had been shocked to witness, over the last few months, just how much Draco had changed. He was still sarcastic and snarky at times and she doubted that edge would ever really go away, but his barbs didn’t have the razor sharp edges that she remembered. And it was obvious to anyone that bothered to look that he would slay a dragon for that little girl of his.

Harry slid his hands up Ginny’s thighs, onto the silky, cream-coloured nightgown she was wearing, and enclosed her hips between his hands. In a flash of movement, Harry had flipped them to the other side of the bed and settled between her spread legs.

“Why are we talking about Draco, of all people, at a time like this?” Harry asked as he traced his index finger along the neckline of her nightie, teasing her skin.

In a husky voice, Ginny countered, “Technically, you were the one that started talking about him, you know?”

Harry rubbed his cock in a slow and steady stroke against the vee of Ginny’s legs, not for the first time sending up a thank you to Merlin that Ginny preferred to sleep pantyless as it meant one less boundary between their bodies. “Well, I think I should correct that mistake then.”

Harry grinned down at Ginny before bowing his head and opening his mouth over her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth through the smooth fabric. He suckled at the nipple for a bit, enjoying the way she ran her fingers through his hair, letting the nails that she liked to keep trimmed and short scrape lightly against his scalp.

When he was satisfied with the attention paid to the right nipple, he moved over to the left. This time, he pulled the loose neckline down, letting it bunch under the rise of her breast. Ginny’s breasts were on the smaller end in size, but Harry was more than pleased with them, the swells filling his hands perfectly as if they’d been made to fit together like a lock and key. He grinned to himself when Ginny sucked in a gusty breath through her teeth and shifted, her back bowing and pushing her chest up against him more firmly.

Harry groaned when Ginny seized his head by the back of his hair and pulled his head away from her chest. With a wordless charm, she had him flipped over onto his back where strips of deep blue silk wound around his wrists before knotting themselves around the headboard, immobilizing his upper body.

Not wasting any time, Ginny climbed over him and yanked his underwear down, only far enough that they stretched across his thighs. His cock sprang free, smacking against his lower belly, leaving a smear of pre-come there. Ginny crawled over him and held his dick up so that she could impale herself down onto it. Harry groaned as his cock was slowly enveloped in the sleek warmth of her body.

Ginny flexed her thigh muscles a few times, lifting her body up until he teetered on the edge of leaving her entirely, and then easing herself back down and engulfing him again, coating his entire length with her natural lubrication. Then she switched up her motions, circling her hips in small circles which forced the sensitive tip of Harry’s cock to stroke against the smooth walls of her vagina.

“Merlin, Gin…” Harry felt mindless, unable to complete the thought, but the breathless tone of the sparse words clearly indicating that it was an encouragement.

Ginny began to speed up, her hips’ movements transitioning into more of an ellipse as she rocked back and forth on his cock. Harry lifted his head to look down the length of his body, wanting to watch the place where their bodies joined together but he was frustrated to find that her nightgown was blocking his view. It draped down between her legs from where it was hiked up to the top of her thigh, and the drooping fabric relentlessly teased him with snippets of the view as she vigorously worked herself against him.

“I want to see you,” he pleaded, regretting that he hadn’t ripped the blasted garment off of her when he’d had the chance. He’d been too enamoured with the way the mute colour drew out the freckles that dusted her soft, pale skin. Harry could never destroy this particular nightgown as it made Ginny look like everything pure and sacred and made him yearn to entice her over to debauchery.

A wicked gleam lit her eyes before she taunted him, “What do you want to see, Harry? Do you want to see me rub myself off while I ride your cock?”

Harry groaned as his prick kicked inside of her at those words. He loved this side of her just as much: the wicked temptress that put to voice all of his deepest desires in the basest of terms. Ginny had always enjoyed being vocal in bed and her dirty talk never failed to thrill him. She was two sides of the same coin, Madonna and whore, and Harry didn’t think he could live with one and not the other.

“Do you want to watch me as I come? Do you want to feel my cunt squeeze your cock so hard that you have no choice but to shoot your load inside of me? I want to hear you beg for it.”

“Please. Please. Do it,” Harry begged, willing to do absolutely anything she asked at that moment. His balls felt heavy and full and he could feel the heavy weight of his impending orgasm creeping up on him.

Ginny fulfilled her end of the bargain, lifting the front of the nightgown out of the way and pinning it between her body and her wrist as she placed the fingers of her hand against her mound. She gave a few slow circles of her fingers before letting her middle finger slip between the swollen lips of her labia and onto her clit. Her finger picked up speed as she continued the litany of words that were driving both of them mad. “Then I’ll let all that sticky come slide out of me and down your balls and form a sticky, wet pool of our juices. You can curl up and sleep on that wet spot and remember how good I fucked you.”

Harry was beyond words as he yanked at the restraints that were still holding him down, desperate to grab onto her hips and fuck up into her until she was beyond conscious thought. But the restraints, the loss of power, the giving of trust, was also meeting some of his most powerful fantasies, and he struggled to regain control, to stem off the inevitable for just a bit longer, refusing to give in to the sweet release until Ginny had reached hers.

Harry muscled together all of his self-control, but that had never been one of his fortes, so he sent up a prayer to the heavens when she leaned back, balancing on one arm, and began swirling her hand vigorously against her clit. Seconds stretched into infinity as she seemed to teeter there on the precipice before she finally let go. Her head fell back, the tips of the long strands teasing his knees as her hips stuttered to a halt and her inner walls seized, increasing the snug pressure on his dick. She rippled around him as her hand gradually slowed down, and Harry tossed away the reins on his control and released himself inside her, a primal part of himself revelling the idea of filling her with his seed, safe in the knowledge that she was diligent about the Contraceptive Charm.

Ginny leaned back, resting her hands against his thighs, as her breathing began to slow. Harry’s erection began to recede until it slipped out of her. Ginny remained there as his ejaculate trickled out and onto the sheets. Ginny rolled off of him and over onto her back, reaching over to the bedside table and wrapping her hand around the spiral handle of her yew wand. She cast a wordless Cleaning Charm at herself and then, after a mischievous grin and a delay, she cleaned the wet spot below Harry as well, much to his relief—as racy as he found Ginny’s dirty talk in the moment, that particular idea seemed less appealing after the sex was over.

“Teddy has decided he wants to be a penguin for Halloween. He and Lyra want to go trick-or-treating together.” Ginny shifted so that she was lying on her side facing Harry.

Harry turned his head to look at Ginny and rested his palm against the soft, warm skin of her outer thigh, skirting his fingers over it in featherlight circles. “Oh goodie, more quality time with Draco.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and reached out, stroking back an erratic strand of hair from Harry’s forehead. “You two are ridiculous, you know that?”

Harry grinned unrepentantly at her. “But you love me anyway.”

She rolled her eyes once more before leaning over and placing a lingering kiss on Harry’s lips. “Lucky for you, I do. Now, turn over. It’s getting late.”

Harry flipped himself around so that his back was to Ginny, who shifted in closer to him and fused her front to his back. Harry smiled softly to himself as he felt the light touch of her lips against the nape of his neck before she settled against him and her warm breath fanned through his hair.

“Goodnight, Gin,” Harry whispered. The only response back was a murmured grumble, Ginny already beginning to slip away to sleep. Harry had always admired her ability to fall asleep basically as soon as her head hit the pillow; sleep came as much more of a labour for himself.

He focused on the rhythmic in and out of Ginny’s breathing for a while, using the mental relaxation techniques that he had learned to help empty his mind, and eventually, he slipped away into unconsciousness.

***

Harry and Draco were speeding across a field of flames, the cab of the truck heating up to the point that it was suffocating. Thick black smoke was filling the small space and Harry couldn’t see. Then suddenly the thick metal of the truck melted away and Harry was flying upwards and could breathe again. He soared towards the large pond that he could see in the distance, but he had to turn around when he heard Draco’s panicked cries from down below. Harry searched the roiling frames until he spotted him, Shield Charm barely managing to hold back the vengeful flames.

Without thought, Harry swept down, the intense heat of the flames crushing in on him from all sides. Harry dived down, landing in the paltry bubble of protection and Draco scrambled up onto the broom from behind him. Harry had only just kicked up from the ground, taking flight once more, when the Shield Charm lost its battle and fizzled out of existence. The flames licked at their skin and clothes as Harry flew up, up, up…

“Harry. Harry! It’s okay. It’s just a dream. I’m here. I’m right here.” Ginny whispered the soothing words into Harry’s neck as she slid her arm around his waist and held him tightly. Harry’s tossing and turning had awoken her and she had returned to spoon behind him and offer him comfort.

Gradually, the muscle jerks calmed and he seemed to slip back into a more tranquil sleep. Ginny laid her head back down on her pillow and slipped back to sleep, the murmured “Don’t let go, D” that Harry sleep-whispered going unheard.

Harry flew up, up, up, until the lapping orange flames disappeared into a dot of colour. The cold air whipped past Harry’s body, flinging his hair in all directions and causing his eyes to water, but all Harry could focus on was the press of warmth from Draco’s lissome body against his, the long arms wrapped firmly around his waist, and the soft brush of lips on the back of his neck.


	9. Chapter 9

“TRICK OR TREAT!”

Lyra and Teddy held up their bright orange, pumpkin-shaped buckets as the resident of the house opened their door.

“This is such an odd holiday.” Draco pulled his scarf up higher so as to cover more of his ears. There was a cold bite to the air that promised snow was on the horizon. They had been at it for about 45 minutes and his extremities were starting to become numb. If the street wasn’t packed with Muggle children and their parents, he would deploy some Warming Charms, but he didn’t want to risk drawing attention to their party, so he had to settle for burrowing deeper into the nest of his scarf.

“All the kids are so adorable in their little costumes though,” Ginny observed as a little girl that looked to be about a year younger than Lyra skipped by, dressed as a princess. At least, she thought she was a princess—a long tulle skirt emerged out from under the girl’s puffy purple jacket and over her pants. Costume concessions always needed to be made for the weather conditions.

“They are less adorable during the week-long protracted sugar rush though,” Harry lamented. “Say thank you, Teddy!” The little boy stopped on his way down the front steps and thanked the woman who had just added to his growing stash. Lyra thanked her as well as several more individually wrapped candies were dropped into her bucket. She made her way down to the base of the stairs where Teddy was waiting for her before they both ran over to the four adults that were waiting on the sidewalk for them.

“I got TWO Mars bars!” Teddy squealed with excitement.

“I guess you have enough to share then?” Andromeda joked, laughing when the boy’s face twisted in horror.

“How are your buckets looking?” Ginny asked and Teddy held up his bucket for her to inspect. “Looks pretty full. We’d better transfer some of that to the pillowcase.” She pulled out two white pillowcases with small purple and yellow violas on them and handed one to Draco. “We brought an extra for you since this is your first time trick-or-treating.”

Draco looked at the bedding in confusion, at a complete loss as to what Ginny could be thinking, but he reluctantly took the pillowcase from her. He watched as she held the pillowcase open and Teddy poured the candy into it.

“Why are you doing that?” Lyra asked as she watched Ginny remove a few of the treats from the pillowcase and drop them back into Teddy’s bucket.

Ginny handed the pillowcase to Harry and then leaned over, resting her weight on her knees, and addressed Lyra in a mock whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”

Draco darted a glance at Harry, who looked amused, but before he could ask what was going on, Lyra was nodding her head eagerly, itching to be part of the secret.

Ginny held both hands up to either side of her mouth in a covert movement, but her voice was still loud enough that Draco could clearly hear what she said, “When your bucket is too full, people will give you less candy. If your bucket is almost empty they feel sorry for you and they’ll be more generous.”

Draco shot a look of surprise at Harry, but he just shrugged and laughed.

“Can we do that too, daddy?” Lyra asked eagerly, tugging on the closed end of the pillowcase.

“I suppose,” he agreed and he held the pillowcase open to let her dump her current load into it. After she’d tipped the treats out into the pillowcase, she pulled the mouth down and inspected the contents for a moment before seemingly deciding on the choice pieces that went back into the pumpkin bucket.

“Come on, Lyra! Let’s go to that house now!” Teddy pointed over to a house that was across the street that had an enormous spider in a fibrous web that was strung from the branches of a tree down to the ground.

“Look both ways before you cross the street!” Andromeda yelled after them and they all watched as the two children stopped, Teddy holding his arm out in front of Lyra in a protective gesture, and carefully checked each direction of the street before running across it.

Draco turned his attention to Ginny and drawled, “You know, that is pretty clever. I wouldn’t have expected that level of cunning from a Gryffindor.”

“Don’t tell me you still believe in all of that nonsense,” she chided. “Everybody has a little bit of each of the house traits in them. We would all be pretty boring if we were that one-dimensional. I was the youngest child in a family of seven, so I had lots of practice with manipulating people to make sure I got my fair share. Just like how you were always close to the top of your class, were loyal to your family, and ultimately stood up against Voldemort.”

“Why, Ginevra, that sounds almost like a compliment,” he teased.

“And every part of it well-earned,” Andromeda piped in. “I always thought it was foolish that Hogwarts stuck to the House system. The idea that who you are at eleven should define who you will become is preposterous. So much can shape and change us. Just look at me: I sorted Slytherin like a proper Black child was expected to, but Ted opened up my eyes to the world and made me rethink everything I’d accepted as undeniable fact up until that point. And from what you’ve told us, Anastasia did the same for you. I’m so proud of you and who you have become.”

Draco felt the conflicting mix of happiness and embarrassment he got whenever Andromeda said things like this to him. He knew that she was trying to compensate for his own mother’s distance and he was thankful, not for the first time, to have his aunt back in his life. He was finally starting to feel like he had a family beyond Lyra again.

“It was meant as a compliment, Draco,” Ginny told him. The jocular tone of a few minutes ago was gone and Ginny was watching his reaction intently. “People can change, and they’re more than one thing. You’re proof of that.”

Before he could respond, a trilling tune began and Draco looked around to try to find its source, the peppy tune out of place amongst all the spooky sound effects and screaming children. Harry transferred the pillowcase to his left hand and then dug in the pocket of his jacket before pulling out a small blue and silver mobile phone.

“Hello?” he said as he clicked a button on the phone and walked a few feet away, holding the device to his ear.

“Since when does Harry have one of those mobile phones?” Draco seized upon the opportunity to change the topic.

“He just got it the other day. He claimed he wanted it for emergencies or if the school needed to get ahold of us, but I think he just wanted a shiny new toy. I’ve caught him playing Snake on it every day since he got it.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Snake?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, it’s this silly game where you have to direct this little line around the screen to pick things up and it grows longer. You keep going until you run into the edge of the screen or into the snake itself,” Ginny explained.

“Sounds thrilling,” Draco deadpanned, which pulled a laugh out of Ginny.

“That sounds like fun. I’ll talk to Andromeda and get back to you. Cheers.” Harry walked back up to their small cluster and pushed a button on the phone before sticking it back into his coat pocket.

“Andromeda, I don’t suppose you would want to watch the kids tonight?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Who was that?” Ginny asked.

“Jackson,” Harry answered. “The team is planning on going to the Park Hotel tonight and wanted to know if we could come.”

“Of course,” Andromeda agreed. “You kids go on and have fun.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind, Andy?” Ginny asked, sounding uncertain. “Two kids on a sugar rush will be a bit of a handful.”

“Two?” Draco asked, startled, and Ginny turned a confused look on him.

“Of course. You’re obviously invited too,” she pointed out as if that was a given.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Draco hedged. “I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable because the big, bad coach is there.”

Harry and Ginny both laughed and then Ginny shook her head and said, “Draco, you’re not nearly that frightening.”

“I don’t know about that,” Harry equivocated. “Melissa looks a bit struck dumb whenever he’s around.”

Ginny scoffed. “Yeah, but that’s because she thinks Draco is cute, not because she’s afraid of him.”

“She...what?” Draco squeaked. The smug, amused look that Ginny threw him helped distract him from the distressing news.

“Oh, unclench, Draco. It’s only a little crush. Besides, she’s only six years younger than you. It’s not like she’s still in nappies.”

“Ginny, you’re terrible. Leave the poor boy alone,” Andromeda chastised her as she visibly stifled an amused grin. Turning her focus on Draco, she continued, “You should go out and have fun. Lyra can stay over at ours tonight and you can have a night to yourself. You could probably use a break.”

Draco wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea, but he felt the intent gaze of the three of them on him and he decided to throw caution to the wind. “Oh alright, I’ll go.”

“Cheers. First round’s on you,” Harry declared.

“I’m already regretting this.”

 

***

 

“Lick!” All of the teammates licked the back of their hand between their thumb and forefinger.

“Salt!” Patricia called out the next step in the process and the three salt shakers that they’d managed to gather were passed around so that everyone got a chance to salinate the wet patch of skin.

“Lick!” Everyone licked the same patch of skin again and Draco started wondering if they were having him on.

“Drink!” They all picked up the shot glass of pale yellow liquor that was in front of each of them and tossed them back in one motion. Draco felt his face contort at the burning sensation of the liquor as it swirled around his mouth and down his throat.

“Suck!” Everyone bit into the lime wedge and Draco did the same, the sharp acidity of the fruit balancing out the dull burn of the alcohol.

“So, what do you think, Draco?” Patricia asked, watching Draco expectantly. When they had discovered that he had never tried Muggle alcohol other than wine, they had decided that they would take turns drinking each of their favourites. Patricia’s favourite of tequila shots was, so far, the least enjoyable.

“It was...interesting,” Draco hedged, not wanting to hurt the woman’s feelings.

“I still think we should have done body shots,” Jared argued. “You can’t really understand the full appeal of tequila until you’re licking it off of a sexy chick’s belly.”

“I’ll let you do a body shot off of my foot if you want.” David leaned back against Melissa and hoisted his foot up into the air and under Jared’s nose.

“Licking your toe fungus is not exactly what I had in mind,” Jared said as he knocked his foot back down. David laughed as he righted himself again.

“I resent that. That fungus has been gone for weeks now,” he said and the table erupted into laughter once more.

Draco watched them exchange barbs as he took another small sip of his rye & coke, which had been David’s choice and, so far, Draco’s favourite. The sweetness of the drink was almost cloying, Canadian rye apparently being sweeter than other whiskeys, but Draco had always had a nagging sweet tooth.

Draco had been true to his word (well, true to Harry’s word, who had promptly announced to the team that Draco had charitably offered to buy everyone’s first round) and had paid for the first round, mostly consisting of beers. But then Draco had let slip his ignorance of Muggle inebriants and the team had gleefully embarked on a sampling menu of the various options. Now, 4 rounds in, Draco’s vision was starting to swirl and everything seemed very, very funny.

Draco took another drink of the sugary concoction and decided he would definitely need to make a trip to the liquor store soon—Canadian Club only, David had instructed in a very solemn tone, _never_ Crown Royal. For a bit, Draco was convinced that David would demand he make an Unbreakable Vow to never buy that “glorified piss”, but fortunately Jackson had distracted him with an amusing story about how he had once used an _Accio_ Charm to try and summon one of the fabled lost crates from a poorly conceived publicity stunt in the 70s and had managed to summon every case of Canadian Club within a fifty mile radius. Apparently, the snafu had made the Muggle papers and the case of the “Canadian Club Caper” remained unsolved to this day.

“Next round is on me,” Jared offered as he waved his hand in the air to flag down their waitress. The young woman swaggered over with her hips swaying enticingly. Her tight, black skirt was short enough that Draco was pretty sure that if she bent over, there wouldn’t be much left to the imagination. Jared didn’t seem to be able to pull his eyes away from the woman’s ample cleavage, whose large size was hoisted up and together in a feat of sartorial engineering that bordered on magical. “We’ll take eight Slippery Nipple shots.”

“You got it,” the waitress nodded and turned away to put their order into the bar, but Draco chuckled when he heard the waitress muttering under her breath, “you little perv.”

Draco really hoped she didn’t spit in their shots.

“What, pray tell, is a ‘Slippery Nipple’?” Draco asked.

“A happy one!” Patricia piped in, triggering a round of laughter from the table.

“Damn straight, eh?” Jared agreed, holding his hand up for an awkward length of time before Patricia reluctantly gave him a high five. Turning back to Draco, he said, “It’s a shot with 1 part sambuca and 1 part Baileys Irish Cream.”

“And what is sambuca?”

“A liqueur that tastes like black licorice,” Melissa said, scrunching up her face. “Someone else can take my shot.”

“Nope, unacceptable! We didn’t Confundus the bouncer to get you in without an ID just to have you not drink. We play as a team, we win as a team, we lose as a team—more often than not—and we drink as a team! Tell her, Draco!”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we needed more team unity. Besides, I’m inclined to agree with Melissa; that shot sounds foul.”

“Of course it’s foul!” Jared argued. “That’s beside the point!”

“So what is the point?” Draco pressed.

“So he can order a Slippery Nipple,” the rest of the table droned as Jared said the same, only with a different pronoun.

Draco couldn’t help it: he burst out laughing. “That is the most difficult reasoning imaginable,” he managed to get out between huffs of laughter.

“Surely you’ve been here long enough to not be surprised that Jared is a pig,” Patricia said, grinning at him.

“I’m not a pig!” Jared protested, before adding, “well except for that one time that Ginny hexed me so that all I could do was oink for two days.” He tossed a dirty look across the table at Ginny who just grinned unrepentantly back at him.

“Speaking of being hexed into a pig,” Harry began before launching into a story about the time he’d received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts and Hagrid had hexed his cousin to have a curly pig’s tail that had to be surgically removed.

Their round of shots arrived and they all threw them back together with a “Cheers!” Draco shuddered at the taste—he’d never been a fan of black liquorice—when he heard a familiar voice address him from over Harry’s shoulder across from him, “Draco?”

Draco froze on the spot as Brent, who was dressed as a cowboy (complete with a fringed button-up and cowboy hat), maneuvered his way around the various tables and patrons to come over to their table. “He’s a Muggle, so be careful,” he hissed at the team, who all craned their necks in curiosity.  Draco stood up and made his way around the table to greet Brent, who pulled him into a tight, lingering hug.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Brent whispered against his ear as he continued to hold them close. Draco could smell the bitter scent of beer wafting off of his breath. He’d obviously had more than a few if he was standing here practically groping Draco in public, Draco thought as the other man’s hands drifted south towards his ass.

Draco disengaged himself from the embrace before they drew any more attention to themselves. Homosexuality may be perfectly legal, but there were still plenty of people that found the concept unappealing and felt that people shouldn’t “flaunt it”. Brent had told him that every year he had to deal with suspicious parents merely on the basis that he was a man that taught kindergarten as if he must have some ulterior motives. If the fact that he was a gay man became common knowledge, the suspicions would only become worse.

“What are you doing here?” Brent asked, voice slurring a bit. “I thought you were going trick-or-treating with Lyra.”

“I did, and then I was invited to come out for a drink with my co-workers,” Draco said, casting a nervous glance over at the table to see that the entire team was watching the exchange with open, ravenous curiosity. He spared a look at Ginny and Harry to see that Ginny was watching the two of them with a speculative look and Harry’s face was one of blank confusion.

Brent turned to look at the table full of people and startled when he realized they were all watching them, then took a small step backward. “Oh...uh...hello? So you’re all accountants, eh?”

The team exchanged confused looks with one another, but when they noticed Draco’s imploring look, they all nodded their heads in agreement.

“Yup, numbers. I love the numbers!” Melissa practically squealed. The girl was an atrocious liar and Draco was actually grateful when Jared distracted them from it with one of his customary suggestive comments.

“I love _getting_ numbers,” he gloated as he watched their waitress walk past their table to take an order from the next table over.

“Yeah? How many numbers have you managed to collect tonight?” Patricia asked smugly. “I’ll help you with the math: 0 + 0 = 0”

Jared waved his hand at her in dismissal and tore his gaze away from the curvy waitress who was most likely raking in the tips tonight. “The night’s still young! Have faith, eh?”

“Draco, aren’t you going to introduce everyone to your—” Ginny looked meaningfully between the two men several times before continuing, “friend?”

Draco glowered at the fiendish witch. “Ginevra, surely you know who he is since Teddy goes to the same school?” he bit back, gritting his teeth.

She smirked back at him and he started to understand why Harry had always found him so irritating in school. “Of course we do—it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Gardner,” Ginny lifted her hand and Brent took it. “But everyone else here doesn’t. You’re being unconscionably rude.”

“Hi, Mr. Potter,” Brent greeted him. “I didn’t realize you two were accountants. I thought you were...flight attendants?”

“Yup, still soaring the skies,” Harry agreed. “Draco just invited us along. Our kids were trick-or-treating together tonight.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Well, it’s nice to see you both again,” Brent said. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

“I suppose there’s no avoiding this,” Draco muttered under his breath. “Everyone, this is Brent. Brent, this is…” Draco proceeded to introduce him to each member of the team and Brent shook everyone’s hand as he was introduced to each in turn.

“How do you two know each other?” Melissa asked sweetly. The girl twirled her hair around her left-hand index finger as Brent turned his thousand-watt smile in her direction.

“I met Draco at the school. I’m his daughter’s kindergarten teacher,” he explained.

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall of that parent-teacher conference,” Ginny said sotto voce into her glass just before she took a swallow. Draco could practically feel the innuendo crawling down his neck.

“Aww, Lyra is such a cutie-patootie,” Melissa cooed, oblivious to the daggered glares that were being exchanged between Draco and Ginny.

“I obviously can’t play favourites with my students,” Brent declared, before leaning down towards Melissa to whisper, “but—and I will deny this if you tell anyone—Lyra is my favourite student.”

Harry was watching Ginny with his brows drawn together as Ginny continued to smirk at Draco’s obvious discomfort and annoyance. With a small shake of his head, Harry asked Brent if he would like to join them, but he declined.

“I’m here with some friends, so I should get back to them. I’ll...uh...see you later, Draco?” Draco nodded and Brent turned to address the team, “It was nice meeting you all. Giddy up!” Several titters arose as Brent tipped his hat at the table before turning back to Draco. They didn’t say anything, but Brent gave him a melting, warm smile and clutched Draco’s upper arm for a second before he walked away and back to a small clutch of people near the bar. Draco watched his receding back and took a deep breath before turning back to the ravenous vultures.

“He seems nice!” Melissa offered kindly and Draco gave her a grateful smile.

“He looks like he’s itching to go for a ride,” Patricia suggested and Ginny sniggered.

The confused look was back on Harry’s face again. “I don’t understand.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Draco sniped as he reclaimed his chair and threw a withering look across the table at Harry, who bristled.

“Are you two an item then?” Jared asked. Draco couldn’t read the expression on his face and he was on edge.

“Yes, and if any of you have a problem with that, then you can keep it to yourself. Who I bugger has no relevance to my ability to coach this team,” he snapped.

“Whoa, calm down, eh?” David jumped in, trying to ease the tension that had erupted all over their previously convivial evening. “I don’t think any of us has a problem with you being gay.”

Murmurs of agreement and nods arose from the other members of the team. “It’s just…” Draco seized up once again as he turned back to Harry, the feeling of relief that had just begun to build coming to a grinding halt. “Well…I mean...you were married.”

“Well spotted, Potter? What gave me away? The wedding ring? The fruit of my loin?”

“I’m just trying to understand, so you could stop being so defensive about it,” Harry complained and Draco sighed.

“Fine, you’re right. What would you like to know?”

“Well...I guess...how are you gay if you were married to a woman?” Harry asked.

“I am going to explain this once, and once only, and then we are all going to strike this off of the list of approved conversation topics, is that understood?” Draco drilled a hard look at each member of his team before he sighed, took a fortifying drink of rye and coke, and launched into the explanation.

“I was married to a woman and I was very much in love with, and sexually attracted to her—and for the record, gay men have been marrying women for centuries,” he added in an aside to Harry, who apparently had never cracked open a history book. “I have also had both romantic and sexual relationships with men. I am what the Muggles call a ‘bisexual’,” Draco explained. “Or, as we called it in Slytherin, ‘hedging your bets’,” he added cheekily.

Harry looked like he was about to say something, but Ginny leaned in and said something under her breath in his ear and he settled back in his chair, his agape mouth closing. Draco studied the couple for a minute, wondering what was being said there, and then turned his attention back to the rest of the group. “Any other questions before we all pretend that we have been Obliviated and we collectively agree this never happened?”

“I have one,” Jared said, raising his hand as if they were in a classroom. Draco sucked in a breath, sure that this would not be good, and, against his better judgement, asked Jared what he wanted to know. “Are you a top, or a bottom?”

The tension evaporated as Patricia smacked the back of Jared’s head and everyone broke out in another round of laughter. “Right, I’m not answering that, so we’re all going to pretend the last ten minutes never happened now. Next round is on me.”

Draco made his way to the bar and ordered everyone another round of rye and cokes and leaned against the bar while he waited for the bartender to mix them.

“You know, it’s tradition to dress up on Halloween.” Brent slid in beside him, leaning one elbow on the bar and grazing Draco’s side with the front of his body.

Draco turned to face him and smiled slyly. “I think I’m a little old for playing dress-up.” Draco let his eyes trail up and down Brent's body, which was served well by the form-fitting cowboy attire.

“See something you like, partner?” Brent reached up and undid the top button of his shirt, giving Draco a teasing glance of chest hair underneath.

“Mmmm,” Draco hummed an agreement then leaned forward slightly, bringing their faces closer together. “Why don’t you come and trick-or-treat at my place later?”

The bartender set down a tray of drinks in front of Draco. “That’ll be $40.”

Draco took out the black leather wallet from the back pocket of his dark blue jeans and pulled out a red fifty dollar bill. “No change, thanks,” Draco said as he held the bill out to the man. The bartender took the proffered bill with a nod of his head and turned to take the next order.

“What time should I come over?” Brent asked.

“Give me an hour,” Draco instructed as he picked up the heavy tray and balanced the sloshing liquids so they didn’t spill over the rims of the glasses. “But I didn’t buy any candy to hand out, so I may need to get a little creative with your treat,” he said in a sultry tone just before he turned and walked back toward their table.

He was greeted by a round of cheers as he handed out a glass to everyone. As he took his seat, Ginny leaned across the table and motioned for him to lean in, which he did. “Lyra’s probably fast asleep by now, so she may as well stay the night at our place. You’ve got the whole evening to yourself, you know, for any hijinx you might want to get up to.”

“Ginevra, sometimes you’re about as subtle as a Blast-Ended Skrewt, do you know that?” Draco drawled, glad that the rest of the team were engaged in a heated debate down at the other end of the table and weren’t paying attention to them just now.

“Harry and I will be partaking in some ‘hijinx’ of our own tonight. What do you say, Harry? Should we break out the sexy French maid outfit tonight?” she asked, her eyebrows raised as she waited for Harry’s answer.

“Merlin, Gin…” Harry muttered, tossing an embarrassed look Draco’s way before shooting her a glare.

“I’m impressed, Ginevra. I love a woman who isn’t afraid to experiment in the bedroom,” Draco smirked as he held up his drink to toast her.

Ginny clinked their glasses together and, just when Draco had taken a drink and was about to swallow, Ginny casually remarked, “Who said I would be the one wearing the outfit?”

Caught off guard, a fine mist of rye and coke forced its way between Draco’s lips before he managed to cover his mouth with his hand. Ginny threw her head back and laughed, incredibly pleased with herself.

“She’s only kidding,” Harry hurried to explain, but Draco couldn’t help but notice the way his ears had turned a vivid shade of crimson and he didn’t seem able to meet Draco’s eyes.

 _Interesting_ , Draco thought. It seemed there might be more to the bedroom repertoires of Gryffindors than he would have guessed. He eyed his two old schoolmates speculatively as Ginny eventually stopped laughing and Harry managed to swing the conversation around to their upcoming first match of the season.

Draco was definitely going to have Brent keep the cowboy hat on tonight. Playing dress-up suddenly seemed like an excellent idea.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco stood up and leaned back, stretching out his straining back muscles. He had been out here for the last thirty minutes shovelling snow...again. It was only the middle of November and Draco was already sick and tired of the seemingly endless shovelling. Not for the first time, he contemplated just pulling out his wand and getting rid of the snow with magic, but he didn't want to risk Mrs. Oxborrow seeing him.

His eyes snagged on the woman’s front walk and noticed that it hadn’t been shovelled yet. “Bugger,” he muttered to himself before throwing the shovel over one shoulder and making his way over to her house. Ten more minutes and he had made his way up to her front step, sighing in relief as his back protested.

As he was twisting from side to side, her front door flew open and she stood in the doorway dressed in a long, flannel nightgown. “You’re such a dear! Thank you so much, hon!”

Draco hoped he was successful in suppressing the grimace that wanted to contort his face from his discomfort. “It was no problem at all, Mrs. Oxborrow.”

“Is there something I can do for you in return?” the woman asked. She seemed to contemplate the problem for a few seconds before an idea lit her face. “I know! The school bake sale will be coming up next month. How’s about I whip you up a few batches of my shortbread for Lyra to take in?”

“That would actually be really helpful and appreciated,” Draco agreed thankfully. Maybe he could just send Lyra to school with some money and keep the precious cookies for himself.

“And I’ll make you a batch or two to keep for yourself,” she added with a sly smile that suggested she knew exactly what he had been considering.

“You’re an angel, Mrs. Oxborrow,” Draco grinned at the woman gratefully. “While I have you, I was hoping that I could ask you for a favour? I have to go out of town for two nights next week and—”

“Do you need someone to watch that sweet little dumpling of yours?” she asked excitedly.

“No, Lyra will be staying with her cousin and my aunt,” Mrs. Oxborrow’s shoulders sagged in disappointment and Draco smiled kindly at her. “Maybe next time. I was wondering if you would be willing to collect my mail.”

“Of course, that’s no problem at all,” she quickly agreed. “So where are you off to then?”

“An accounting conference in Edmonton,” he said, using the cover story that he had decided on. In actuality, the team was going to Sweetwater, Texas for their opening match of the season against the All-Stars. Draco was looking forward to escaping the minus temperatures and snow for a few days, though he was incredibly nervous about the match, desperate for the team to turn around their losing streak.

“That sounds...fun, dear,” the old woman offered politely and he laughed.

“I’m sure it will be thrilling. Thanks again, Mrs. Oxborrow.” She waved at him and slipped back inside and closed her door. Draco threw the shovel over his shoulder once more and made his way back over to his house, moving carefully so that he didn’t go ass over teakettle on the ice.

Closing the front door behind him, Draco hummed in contentment that he could finally take out his wand and cast Warming Charms on himself. He slipped the thick, woollen coat off and hung it in the front hall closet just as he heard the ping from the kitchen that signalled he had just received a message on his new cell phone—Harry had been so smug about his new toy that Draco had felt compelled to get one as well. He did have to admit that they were convenient, especially since he had a Muggle boyfriend now.

Draco unplugged the phone from the charger and smiled at the message on the screen that was from Brent: _Is it Friday yet? A student had a bathroom emergency...thank God for emergency classroom pants!_

Draco thought for a moment and then typed in a response: _Let's hope bathroom emergencies don’t come in pairs._

_You’re terrible. :P See you on Friday!_

Draco smiled to himself and headed upstairs to get ready for work. Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

***

“I’ll have my cell phone with me, so if you need to get in touch with me for any reason, feel free to call me.” Andromeda gave him a humouring look as he frantically ran through his mental checklist. This was the first time he would be leaving Lyra for more than a night since she had been born and he was panicking ever-so-slightly.

“If she has trouble falling asleep, she likes a cup of hot cocoa with mini marshmallows, but it has to be five marshmallows exactly, and she only likes the green ones.”

“We’ll be fine, won’t we, Lyra?” Andromeda rested one hand atop Lyra’s head, who craned up to look adoringly at her great-aunt.

“Can we build a pillow fort, Auntie Dromie?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Andromeda nodded.

Lyra turned her head back to Draco and he wanted to laugh at the look of placation on her face. “Don’t worry, daddy. I’m a brave girl. I’ll be fine without you.”

Draco kneeled down and took her small hands in his. “I know you are. But just in case you get scared or miss me, just tell Auntie Dromie and she’ll get me on the phone so we can talk, okay?”

Lyra rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion. “I know, dad.”

Draco and Andromeda exchanged an amused glance and then Draco held his arms open. “Can you spare a hug for your poor, old dad?” Lyra grinned and darted forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as he enclosed her in a hug. “Be good for your Auntie, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” Lyra nodded her head against the side of his and he gave her one last hug before letting her go and pushing back to his feet.

“That’s so sweet,” Ginny sighed.

“Hey, Tedster, are you going to come and say goodbye to us?” Harry called out.

“Bye,” came the faint reply from somewhere deeper in the house and Harry chuckled.

“That’s less sweet,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Ever since he got that new Pookyball game, we’ve barely seen him.”

“Pokémon,” Harry corrected.

“Can I go play with Teddy now?” Lyra asked, barely waiting for the nod of approval before she tore out of the kitchen in search of her cousin.

“Thanks again for watching her, Andromeda,” Draco said once more as Ginny, Harry and he prepared to Apparate to the stadium together.

“No fuss at all,” Andromeda assured him. “Take care of each other.”

“Well there goes my plan to get these two drunk, dress them up in tutus, hogtie them and leave them in the desert,” Ginny joked as she leaned in and pecked Andromeda on the cheek.

Andromeda chuckled. “That was upsettingly specific.” Ginny just grinned.

Harry leaned in and gave Andromeda a peck on the cheek as well. “We should be back Wednesday evening.”

“And you’ll bring me back a spoon?” Andromeda reminded him.

“Of course,” Harry assured her. At Draco’s confused expression, Harry explained. “Andromeda collects souvenir spoons, so every time we go somewhere, we bring her back one.”

Draco made a note to bring her back a souvenir spoon as well. She’d been so helpful with Lyra and restoring his sense of having a family, that if there was something he could do to make her happy, he would be sure to do it.

Ginny and Harry shrunk down their travel bags and tucked them in their pockets and, with a final round of goodbyes, the three of them Apparated to meet the rest of the team at the stadium. They found them all waiting in the conference room and they took their seats.

“Good, now that we’re all here, I just have a few things to say before you all head out,” Sheena began. “I know that we’ve had a rocky couple of years, but I am inordinately proud of how far you’ve come in the past few months, and we owe a lot of that to you, Draco.”

He acknowledged the team with embarrassment as they broke out into a round of applause, complete with hoots and hollers. “It was really all you guys,” he demurred.

Sheena continued, “Of course I want to win—especially since the owner of the All-Stars and I have a long-running rivalry, that insufferable dillweed—but I want you to know that even if we don’t win, I’ll still be proud of this team.”

She looked around at them all with a fond look. “Now, onto business. The Portkey will drop you lot off at the Sweetwater Stadium, where you’ll spend the afternoon doing interviews with the press. There will be a MACUSA vehicle that will transport you between the stadium and the hotel. Your return Portkey will leave on Wednesday at 12 pm, Sweetwater time. And...I think that’s it.” She looked down at the paper in her hand, consulting her notes to see if she’d forgotten anything. “Yup, that’s it. Any questions?”

Everyone looked around at each other and when a few beats had passed and nobody piped up, Sheena continued, “Great! Well, then get out of here. Kick some ass, eh?”

Everyone cheered again and began filing out of the room, shaking Sheena’s hand as they passed her.

Consulting his watch, Draco noticed that their Portkey was scheduled to activate in thirty seconds. “Okay, everyone. Gather round.” The eight of them formed a tight circle and Draco held out the Portkey, an old copy of a Muggle magazine called Tiger Beat that seemed to be dedicated to attractive teenage boys, based on the assortment of pictures on the cover. They all reached out and took hold of the magazine as Draco counted down the final moments, “5...4...3….2...1…”

***

“Someone hex me and get me out of this. Ginny, you’re famed for your Bat-Bogey Hex. Hit me with one!” Jared pleaded as he tugged on Ginny’s dress robes, who was seated behind his left shoulder.

Ginny scoffed at him and batted his hand away before straightening the deep purple coloured robe that matched the rest of the team’s. Draco couldn’t help but notice how the deep, rich colour of the robe contrasted her red hair and made her eyes sparkle. “There’s no way I’m giving you a free pass out of this nightmare while I have to suffer through it,” she shot back.

“How many more of these do we have to do, anyway?” Melissa asked, her tone just barely falling short of a whine.

“Looks like, “Draco consulted the folder with their schedule on it and traced his eyes down the page, counting how many more reporter one-on-one interviews they still had left to go, “five.”

The answer elicited a loud groan from the entire team. Draco did have to admit that even his patience was starting to wear thin. For the last two and a half hours, they had been subjected to a nearly continuous stream of demoralizing interviews. The Meteorites’ losing streak was the source of frequent questions and there was only so many times you could be reminded that you hadn’t won a single game the entire past season before your confidence began to be shaken.

Unfortunately, the interviews were not optional, and Draco lamented the fact that the Americas, unlike Britain, had so many different newspapers. Sure, it made it much more unlikely that a power-hungry dictator could take over the media and spread lies, but it also meant that rather than the one or two interviews he used to have to give back when he was playing for the Wimbourne Wasps before a game, they had to do 10 times as many here.

The team needed something to motivate them to power through these last five interviews.

Making up his mind, Draco stood abruptly and strode over to the door of the hotel conference room that they had been directed to. Sticking his head out, he saw the media coordinator standing several feet away and he waved her over. “We’re going to need to take a ten minute or so break.”

“Oh, well it’s just that according to the schedu—”

Draco cut the woman off, not brooking any argument about this, “Thank you. We’ll see the next reporter in ten minutes.” He shut the door to the sounds of her spluttering and, to be safe, cast a Locking Spell at the door before turning back to the team, who were eyeing him suspiciously.

“Draco….why did you just lock us all in here?” Harry asked slowly, dragging out the words in a mixture of confusion and leftover suspicion.

“Right, here’s what we’re going to do.” Draco pulled out a blank sheet of paper from his folder and ripped it in two several times until he had enough sheets of paper for each member. He grabbed a handful of the stadium-branded pens from the table on the side of the room and handed out a sheet of paper and a pen to each player.

“You’re each going to write three obscure words on that sheet of paper and we’re going to play a game during the rest of the interviews. We’re going to compile the list of words and the goal will be to use as many of the words in your answers as you can without alerting the reporter to what we’re doing.”

“Are you serious?” David asked as he reluctantly took the slip of paper and pen that Draco proffered to him. “How is this supposed to make this better?”

“You’d be surprised. We used to play this all the time in school,” Draco assured them. Finished with handing out the writing instruments, Draco pulled the lid off his own pen and scrawled out his first choice of word on his own slip of paper: _kaleidoscopic_.

“This is the first I’m ever hearing of this,” Ginny said seconds before a wide grin broke across her face and she hunched over, writing quickly on her own paper.

“You Gryffindors couldn’t be trusted with this,” Draco agreed. “You goody-two-shoes would have sold us out to the Professors. This was a little game that the Slytherins and Ravenclaws played together.” Draco jotted down his second word: _bombastic_.

“I don’t know...from what we’ve been able to gather, our Harry, here, got into a fair amount of trouble in school.” Jared held his hand up for Harry to give him a high five and after an awkward pause, Harry conceded with a grin and a roll of the eyes.

“We can recount our childhood memories some other time. I only managed to buy us ten minutes of free time, so everyone hurry up and get down your three words.” Draco watched as his team donned a variety of thoughtful expressions broken up with the scritch-scratch of writing. With a smug grin on his face, Draco filled in his final choice of words: _hoi polloi_.

Draco collected the scraps of paper and wrote out the twenty-four selected words on a fresh piece of paper in neat bullet points. Since they were quickly running out of time, he used a few _Geminio_ Charms to create seven more copies of the final list. Then, with only two minutes or so left until the imposed deadline, he cast the series of Charms that would allow them to keep score. A Charm of his own devising, the eight copies of the list would now be linked so that if someone managed to use one of the words on the list, it would disappear from the other seven lists. The person with the highest count of words on their sheet by the end of the game would be declared the winner.

“Now, review the lists quickly, but do not say any of the words aloud,” Draco warned as he handed everyone their own copy. They spent the next minute or so reading through the list of words and trying to commit as many as possible to memory until they were interrupted by a distinctly annoyed-sounding knock at the door.

“Remember, you have to use the word correctly in a sentence and if the reporter gets suspicious, you don’t get the point.”  Draco looked around at the team and they all seemed to be pulling out of the slump that they had sunk into. They were whispering amongst each other and as he watched, Melissa started laughing at something that Jackson had said to her.

Smiling to himself, Draco took the doorknob in his hand, cast _Alohomora_ at the door, and then pulled it open. The media consultant stumbled into the room off balance with her hand raised to knock aggressively on the door once more. Putting on his most winsome smile, Draco forestalled her rebuking, “Thank you ever so much for your patience. It is very much appreciated.”

Draco watched as the famed southern hospitality battled with her annoyance until eventually she sighed and the hospitality seemed to have won out. “That’s fine, Mr. Malfoy. We should get going on the next interview now.” Leaning her upper body out of the door once more, she motioned to someone and was followed into the room by a tall black man that was dressed in a stunning three-piece blue suit.

“Hello everyone. I’m Jerome Booker and I’m with the San Francisco Sorcerer.” Jerome held his hand up in a greeting as the team murmured greetings to him before taking his seat in the chair facing the team. “Let’s just jump right in, shall we?” he asked and without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Your record last season was two losses short of setting a new Americas record for most consecutive losses. What kind of strategy are you going to employ to hopefully turn your luck around this season?”

Draco sucked in a breath between his teeth at the bald rudeness of this reporter. He was about to interject and deflect him away from this topic when Patricia cut in, “We were in a precarious position last year since we lost our coach early on in the season, but now we have a new coach who is pushing us into new frontiers. Our team is a kaleidoscopic mix of talents and in the last few months we’ve really learned to work together so we scintillate.”

Several groans echoed around the room as Draco’s eyebrows shot up and he cast a glance down at the paper in his hand just in time to see four of the words fade away. Draco threw a surprised look at Patricia, who grinned smugly for a moment before she turned her attention back to the reporter.

Patricia’s early lead galvanized the other players and Draco smothered a chuckle as he noted how everyone seemed to be leaning forward eagerly in their chair, anxious to jump in and answer the next question.

The rest of the afternoon flew by faster than a Seeker chasing after the Golden Snitch.

***

“I was sure that last reporter was onto us,” Melissa laughed as they lounged in chairs beside the hotel pool.

“What does that word even mean?” Jared asked as he took a sip of his cold beer.

“Brobdingnagian? It means ‘gigantic’,” David answered. “I always loved _Gulliver’s Travels_ as a kid.”

“It didn’t help that Ginny practically snorted when you said it,” Draco said as he threw a dirty look over at her.

“I think I fairly convincingly turned it into a sneeze,” Ginny defended herself. “Thanks for that, Draco. I think we were all feeling pretty bleak there for a while. Shockingly, your game actually made the afternoon a lot of fun.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad I could help. It was nothing really.”

“I think next time we should team up against Patricia and take her down,” Jared proposed. Patricia didn’t look all that concerned. She had managed to maintain her early lead quite easily and had won the game with a handy three-word lead. “How did you know so many of those words, anyway?”

“Because, believe it or not, some people actually read for fun, you walnut,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Not all of us want to be a nerd, eh?” he retorted. Throwing back the dregs from his bottle of beer, he pushed himself up and unwrapped the towel from around his waist. “I may not know a bunch of fancy $5 words, but at least I’m pretty,” he flexed his biceps in a weightlifting stance, even going so far as kissing the left one, “I’m going for a dip. Who’s with me?”

Draco watched as most of the team abandoned their various drinks and towels and jumped into the deep side of the pool. It wasn’t long before they were splashing and dunking each other, their laughter echoing around the large room.

“Didn’t you bring a bathing suit?” Draco turned towards Harry, who was still seated several lounge chairs down from him. Draco looked down at himself and his bare feet that were the only concession he had made when they set up poolside, his long pants and sleeves still very much in place. Despite it being late November, it was actually quite warm in Texas and he wished he was able to lose the long sleeves. He supposed he could alter his pants into shorts, but he’d rather be uncomfortably warm than committing the fashion faux-pas of wearing long sleeves and shorts together.

“I’m not a fan of swimming,” he fibbed.

Harry stood up from the lounger he was on and moved closer, taking up the seat that Melissa had vacated. They sat in silence for a few minutes watching as a game of chicken was started, with Patricia lifting Melissa aloft and leaving Jackson to sit atop Jared’s shoulders while Ginny sat on David’s.

“You don’t have to hide it, you know,” Harry said in a low voice. Draco turned a confused expression on him. “The Dark Mark. I just...I wanted you to know that you don’t have to hide it for me...if that’s what you were doing,” Harry trailed off, fidgeting in the seat under Draco’s intense stare.

Sighing, Draco turned back towards the pool. “Not everything is about you, Potter.”

“Harry,” he corrected.

Draco rolled his eyes but accepted the correction. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a constant reminder of your worst decisions burned into your flesh, _Harry_. I will admit that I wasn’t entirely sure how you would take it if you saw it again, but it isn’t my only reason for hiding it. Just looking at it, it—it makes me SICK.”

Harry didn’t say anything for long moments and Draco thought it would be the end of the discussion, but just when he was about to make his excuses to escape back to his hotel room, Harry spoke up. “I really did hate you in school, you know.”

Draco shuddered. Apparently just talking about the mark had been enough to undo all the goodwill that he had built up with Harry over the last six months. “Yes, well, before we devolve into hexes, I should jus—”

Harry reached out and grabbed ahold of Draco’s arm, halting him from standing up. Draco cast a nervous glance over to the pool but nobody seemed to notice the tense atmosphere between the two of them. Draco sat back down, hoping to avoid a scene.

“But I also understand why you made the choices you did.”

Draco scoffed. There was no way that Potter could understand what an impossible position he had been in. He would admit that he was an entitled prat during their first few years of school, but when Voldemort had made his return, Draco’s life had devolved into a hellish nightmare from which it had felt like there was no escape, and it had all begun when that cursed mark had been burned into his flesh. He wished that he could say that he hadn’t chosen it, that it had been forced upon him. And in a way it had been; he’d never been encouraged to question his beliefs and wonder whether the lessons his mother and father had been teaching him his whole life felt right to him. Maybe if he hadn’t had those mental shackles, then he wouldn’t have ended up with the magical one.

“I saw you, you know,” Harry whispered and Draco was torn from his catalogue of regrets. “I saw him torturing you.”

“What the fuck, Potter?!” Draco’s self-hatred transformed quickly to anger and he swung his legs around towards Harry and leaned forward, prodding his chest with his finger. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“I just—bugger, I’m not good at stuff like this,” Harry ran his hand through his wild mop of hair, tugging on it with his frustration. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you Draco, so if you could get your finger out of my face, that would be appreciated.” Draco slowly retracted from his aggressive posture, dropping his hand to grasp the edge of the lounger with a white-knuckled grip. “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t think of you the same way as I did back then.”

Draco waited for Harry to continue, but a further explanation didn’t seem forthcoming. “Thanks for the touching heart-to-heart, Potter.” Draco moved to leave again but Harry continued.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Draco. You didn’t deserve that, even if you were a total prat when we were younger.”

“I don’t need your pity, Pot—”

“Harry! Call me Harry, you goober!” Draco startled at the outburst before an amused grin pulled at his mouth. Harry held up his hand in a thumbs up gesture and Draco looked over his shoulder to see Ginny giving them a concerned look from the pool. As she registered Harry’s okay sign, her concerned look bled away and she started grappling with Melissa once more.

“Goober?” Draco asked, eyebrow hiking up in a look of amusement.

“If the shoe fits,” Harry grinned back at him and the tension that had been building between them faded away.

Draco released his grip on the lounger and leaned his forearms on his knees. “What brought all this on, Harry?”

Harry sighed. “Ginny and I were talking and she thought that it would be healthy for us to finally air out some of this bad history between us. I told her it was probably stupid, but…”

“It’s not a stupid idea, actually,” Draco offered. “You just took me by surprise, is all.”

“Look, I just want you to know that I don’t hate you anymore. In fact, I actually kind of like you.” At Draco’s smug smile, Harry was quick to call him on it, “You’re still a right prat sometimes.” Draco chuckled and nodded his head in acknowledgement. “You should know that it won’t bother us if you wear a t-shirt or anything.”

Draco cleared his throat and clutched his left forearm in his right hand as if he was afraid that Harry was going to strip him bare on the spot. “Well, that’s...thanks,” he managed to awkwardly spit out.

They sat there awkwardly avoiding eye contact while the joyful splashing sounds continued from the pool. Finally, Draco broke the silence, “Well, I’m going to head up to my room for the night.”

“You don’t have to go,” Harry rushed to assure him. “We can talk about something else….books or something…”

Draco quirked an eyebrow up and gave Harry a quizzical look. “Have you read any good books lately, then?”

Harry laughed good-humouredly and shook his head. “Not really, I just kind of panicked and it was the first thing that came to mind. Unless you want to talk about the newest in Children’s literature. The Crazy Adventures of Crackle the Crup was a thrilling page-turner.”

Draco laughed. “That is actually one of Lyra’s favourites, but I think I’ll pass for now. I should review the book of plays for tomorrow’s game. Have a good night, Harry.” Draco stood up and started away before turning back around. “And...thanks. You know, for...being so nice.”

Harry grinned at him and Draco remembered how often he had wished Harry would look at him like that while they were in school—like they were friends. “Sleep tight, Draco.”

Draco headed over to the pool area exit and stopped on the threshold to turn back. As he watched, Harry took a running leap and did a cannonball into the deep end of the pool, disappearing from sight for a few seconds before shooting up and out of the water, his long hair throwing a stream of water droplets up into the air as he threw his head back, tossing his hair off of his face.

Smiling to himself, Draco left the team to their fun and made his way to his room. He made a token effort of trying to review their plays, but he found his mind kept trailing back to his discussion with Harry as his finger traced over the faded, red lines of his Dark Mark.


	11. Chapter 11

“Shit, bitch, bugger, damn!” Jared threw his helmet across the room and the echoing clang of its impact with the locker reverberated around the space.

“Calm down, man,” David warned as he entered the change room behind Jared. “The last thing we need is to have to pay for damages on top of losing to them.”

The rest of the team trudged into the visitor's change room and slumped down onto the benches, commiserating over yet another loss. After a few minutes, Draco came in.

“Well, team, I’ve just gotten off the Floo with Sheena,” he began.

“Let me guess: she’s started looking for replacements for all of us,” Jackson moaned from where he was lying on his back on the bench, his eyes studying the ceiling intently.

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, the buttons on his cuffs pulling the material taut. “I see we have a full-fledged pity party going on in here.”

Harry snorted. “Well, we aren’t exactly in the mood to celebrate, are we?”

Draco walked over and leaned against the wall between the changing area and the showers and leaned back until his shoulder blades rested against the cement, feet crossed at the ankles in a casual pose. “I don’t see why not,” he said as he shrugged a shoulder, “I would be.”

“Did you get hit in the head with a bludger, Coach?” Jared asked incredulously. “We LOST. Again. Just like we’ve lost every other game for the last eighteen months. We’re LOSERS.”

“First off,” Draco uncrossed his arms and held the index finger of his left hand up, pointed at Jared, “I do not coach ‘losers’, so if I hear you disparaging your team like that again, you’re going to see an ugly side of me.”

Draco drilled an intense look at Jared until the other man nodded sheepishly. Draco considered him for a moment and then, looking satisfied, continued as he held up two fingers now, “Secondly, you most certainly did not lose this game ‘just like’ all the other games.”

A few heads perked up and Draco went on, “David, that ‘Starfish and Stick’ move that you’ve been working on must have saved at least half a dozen Quaffle shots.” David reluctantly agreed and there was a murmur of agreement from the other players.

“And, Melissa, that play where you were inadvertently blocking Ginny’s shot and you bent your body up and away from the broom and allowed Ginny to shoot through you? Did you come up with that? We have to add that to our playbook and practice it because their keeper didn’t even see that Quaffle coming.”

Melissa’s face lit up with excitement and she grinned happily at him. “I’ve just recently started a yoga class and there’s a pose called downward dog and when I saw Ginny coming at me I just...did it!”

“That was really clever,” Ginny agreed as the mood in the room seemed to buoy higher. “We should definitely practice that some more. “Maybe we can do a yoga class together?”

“That would be fun!” Melissa hastily agreed.

Ginny leaned over and said something under her breath to Harry. Draco couldn’t make out what it was, but judging by the way Harry’s ears flushed, he imagined it was something sexual. Draco was reminded of last night when he’d discovered three things: 1) that his room shared a wall with Harry and Ginny’s, 2) that said wall was apparently made merely of paper, and 3) that Ginny was quite fond of dirty talk, and from the very content-sounding moans, Harry was a fan of it as well.

Draco cleared his throat and pushed the memory out of his mind. This was most definitely _not_ the time to be reliving that particular memory, though he had every intention of adding that knowledge to his fantasies in the future.

“It’s been a long day and I don’t want to keep you all here half the night to do a full debrief of the game, but I want you to know that I told Sheena that I am very pleased with how well you played today.”

“Yeah, but...we still lost,” Patricia said, as if she was reluctant to remind him of that fact.

“That’s true, we did technically lose,” Draco agreed, nodding his head. “But we lost very respectably. We held our own against one of North America’s top-ranked Quidditch teams. We successfully ran most of the plays that we had practiced and we only ended up losing by 30 points. The All-Stars carved out an early lead of 90 points and we didn’t completely derail and panic: we kept our heads together and worked the plays and pulled ourselves up the scoreboard. This was a _good_ loss, everyone. You should be _proud_ of this loss.”

“Yeah, guys! We did awesome!” Melissa cheered and the last of the drab mood in the room floated away.

“So...Sheena isn’t about to give us all our walking papers then?” Jackson asked, but this time he was leaning up on one elbow and the worry lines of his face had smoothed out.

“Hell, maybe she’ll give us all raises!” Jared joked and aimed a wink in Draco’s direction.

Draco held up his hands in a halting gesture. “Let’s not get carried away here.” His words were met with a round of laughter from everyone in the room.

“We’ll go over areas for improvement when we get back to Moose Jaw, but for tonight I want you guys to go out and celebrate. Just remember that our Portkey leaves at noon tomorrow, so we’ll need to leave the hotel by 11.”

Draco turned to leave when he was stopped by Ginny, “Oi, Malfoy. Where do you think you’re going?”

Draco raised one eyebrow in a scrutinizing look. “Back to my room, _Weasley_ ,” he emphasized her last name and she laughed.

“There’s no way you’re not coming out to celebrate with us.”

“Oh! Yay! Yes, you have to come with us!” Melissa clapped her hands together quickly several times.

“I really don—” he began to protest, but Ginny cut him off.

“Nope. No excuses. If the team is going out to celebrate our not-a-win, you're coming. You're part of this team now too.”

Draco glanced around the room and was met with faces displaying unanimous agreement with Ginny's sentiment. He sighed, but his mouth quirked up in the barest of smiles. “Fine, if you insist. I will meet you all in the hotel lobby in an hour after you've all showered; it smells like a sweaty erumpent in here.”

The laughter that followed him into the hallway was a relief after the crushing disappointment that had greeted him when he'd entered.

***

“I take it she didn't fall for your pick-up line?” Patricia took a sip from her straw with her brows raised in a look of faux disbelief.

Jared didn't answer right away as he was busy fishing a quarter out of his drink. Fingers emerging triumphant, he dried the coin against his shirt and then dropped it into the front pocket of his jeans. “I gained a quarter out of the deal, so it’s her loss.” Jared shrugged and then took a long swig of his drink.

“Ugh! Gross! You’re not seriously drinking that still are you?” Jackson asked as he gave Jared a look of revulsion.

“Sure, why not?” Jared asked, unperturbed.

“You’ve just been fishing around in it with your fingers, and who knows where that quarter has been!”

Jared seemed to eye his glass suspiciously for a few seconds and then shrugged and threw back another drink. “The alcohol will probably sterilize anything.” As if to prove his confidence in his assessment, he threw back the rest of his drink and made a show of swallowing it. Jackson shuddered.

“Why did she throw a quarter in your drink, anyway?” David asked.

“I asked if I could borrow a quarter because I had to call the cops. She looked so good that it must be criminal.” Jared grinned unrepentantly as the rest of the team groaned at his terrible pick-up line.

“Good for her then. You were asking for it,” Melissa declared, her face scrunched up in distaste.

“Literally,” Harry added with a grin.

“Pardon me, but I was wondering if you would like to take a swing around the dance floor.” Ginny’s eyes trailed up the arm which was extended out towards her, palm up, to find a tall blonde man wearing a beige cowboy hat and a warm smile.

She cast a quick look at Harry and when he didn’t object, she reached up and placed her hand in the man’s. “Looks like you’re not the only one that can attract a cowboy, Malfoy.” She winked at him and then followed as the man led her through the crowd of bar patrons and out onto the dance floor.

Draco watched as the two danced. The man kept attempting to bring their bodies closer and to settle his hands on Ginny’s hips, but she would evade his overtures by dancing away. “That doesn’t bother you?” Draco asked Harry in a low voice as the rest of the team started pairing up and heading onto the dance floor.

Harry didn’t answer right away, lifting the mouth of his beer bottle up to his mouth and tipping it back as he watched the man spin around to where Ginny had circled around behind his back.

When the silence stretched out, Draco backpedalled, “My apologies. That was rude of me. It’s none of my business.”

“No, no. It’s not that. I was just thinking about it,” Harry assured him. “It doesn’t _really_ bother me. I trust Gin and I don’t think that she’d cheat on me or anything.” Draco looked down and saw that Harry was picking at the label on the bottle where it rested between his thighs.

“I mean...it does kind of bug me, watching other men flirt with her,” Harry continued, “but in kind of a fun way? If that makes any sense?” Harry let out a small awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

Draco studied Harry for a few moments and then swung his head back around to watch as Ginny began doing a strange dance move that could only be described as placing goods in a grocery cart while shopping, and the cowboy watched her, befuddled.

“So you enjoy sitting here letting all the other men in the room work up their hopes that they have a chance with the fair maiden and then you’ll swoop in, throw her over your shoulder, and make off with the prize at the end of the night?” Draco conjectured.

Harry lets out a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, I guess that sums it up pretty well. Look at her though,” he turns back towards the dance floor, “she’s beautiful. I can’t really blame them for wanting to try and have it on with her. And, besides, she’s gotten quite skilled at dodging ‘bludgers’ over the years.”

Draco laughed and then followed his line of sight and found that he had to agree. Ginny’s long red hair was running down her back in a waterfall of soft curls emerging from a loose braid that circled around the crown of her head. A rich, emerald tunic-style dress was cinched at her waist and toned legs emerged from the hem and seemed to go on for miles, ending in brown leather ankle boots with a peep toe that gave a teasing glimpse of ruby red nail polish.

“Can't argue with you there, Potter. Not sure what she sees in you, to be honest,” Draco deadpanned.

Harry's eyebrows drew together for a flash and then his face softened and he laughed. Elbowing Draco lightly he said, “Fuck off, Malfoy.”

“You know, if Andromeda were here, she'd have boxed our ears with all of these surnames being bandied about.”

Ginny reappeared in front of them, the song having apparently ended while they were talking and Draco could see her dancing partner staring after her. Draco smothered a laugh with a drink of his wine as he saw the man bite into his lip as if in pain when Ginny bent over, giving the man what must have been a very attractive view of her derriere.

“Time for you to dance,” she ordered.

“Gin, you know I'm a terribl—”

“Uh uh, I don't want to hear any excuses,” Ginny cut off Harry's protestations. “Even you can handle swaying to a beat and that is all I'm asking for.” At Harry's continued reluctance, she took his hands in hers and hauled him off the chair. “Don't worry, luv, my expectations are the lowest of the low.”

Draco laughed at that and Harry shot him a dirty look before grudgingly laughing as well. “Fine, but you're not allowed to complain when I end up treading all over your toes.”

“Don't be silly. It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and complain about her malformed ideas later,” she scoffed.

Draco was scanning the crowded room to try to determine where the rest of the team had gotten to when he realized that Ginny and Harry were still standing in front of him and he turned a confused look on them.

“You seem to be in need of a dance partner,” Ginny said, grinning at him as she clutched onto Harry’s arm. “Come dance with us.”

Draco wanted to laugh at the startled look that Harry tossed in Ginny’s direction. “I’m quite alright sitting this one out. I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel. Thank you anyway, Ginevra.”

“Nope. I’m not accepting no for an answer.” Ginny shook her head and stared expectantly at Draco, who exchanged an awkward look with Harry, who sighed.

“She’s like a crup with a bone when she gets an idea in her mind, so you may as well just come on then.” Harry smiled awkwardly at Draco and motioned over his shoulder to the dance floor with his head.

Draco didn’t move right away, but when Ginny continued to level an expectant look at him, he realized that there was no way that she was backing down and Harry apparently had no intention of talking her out of it. He swallowed the last of his wine before discarding the now-empty glass on the table and pushing himself up.

Ginny had the look of a cat that ate the canary as she grabbed one of each of their hands in hers and hauled them off towards the dance floor. She elbowed her way through the crowds of people and staked a claim on the middle of the dance floor before throwing her arms in the air and swaying with the music.

Draco and Harry stood there awkwardly shuffling from side to side while Ginny tossed her long hair around so that it flew out around her until she noticed how helpless the two of them looked and started laughing. Sliding between the two men, she took Harry’s hips in her hands and guided his movements until he was at least close to the rhythm of the music.

Turning around, she grabbed Harry’s hands and placed them on the swell of her hips. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she turned her head and kissed his jawline until he turned to meet her lips with his. Draco suddenly felt intrusive and unnecessary and like he was intruding on a private moment, even though they were surrounded by people on all sides. He was just about to slip away, sure they wouldn’t even notice, when Ginny reached out and grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and yanked him towards her.

He stumbled forward, thrown off by the sudden force propelling him towards the pair, and in the blink of an eye his front was pressed up against Ginny’s. He darted startled eyes to Ginny’s face to find her smiling wickedly at him before she did a figure eight move with her hips, rubbing more firmly against him. His mouth seemed to go parched in an instant and he licked his lips before he could stop himself. Turning his gaze to the left, he found what he imagined was a mirror of his own look on Harry’s face: his mouth was parted slightly as if he’d just gasped an inhale and his eyebrows were drawn together in a look of mild confusion. But it was his eyes that tore Draco’s attention and refused to give it up: they boiled with intensity and, the improbable thought flitted across his consciousness, _lust._

The three of them stood there for what seemed an eternity, unmoving. Draco’s eyes flickered between Harry’s and Ginny’s, afraid to move anything more than that and shatter the delicate moment they were in. Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his arms and his hands hovered for stretched out moments, giving them the opportunity to put an end to this mad moment, before finally settling on Ginny’s waist.

Nobody said anything, but Draco could feel Harry’s hands tighten on Ginny’s hips from where they grazed against his own. Draco sucked in a deep breath and waited for Harry to haul Ginny back and away from him, but it never came and Ginny’s slow, swaying hip movements began once more as they all released a breath they hadn’t even been aware they were holding. The music came rushing back and melted away the tension with the steady massage of the beat.

Draco’s eyes slid open as he felt the graze of movement against his pinky finger. He thought it might be a mistake, an inadvertent touch from their dancing, until it came again: a firm stroke of warm skin against the top of his smallest finger. Draco didn’t dare look at Harry in that moment, afraid of what he’d see, but he couldn’t stop the shifting of his hands lower on Ginny’s torso. He smiled to himself as Harry’s hands shifted up, their fingers overlapping and weaving together against Ginny’s body.

They danced like that, bodies pressed together with Ginny’s hands clasped at the back of Draco’s neck while her head rested back against Harry’s shoulder for the rest of the song. And when that song blended into the next, they danced together through that one as well.


	12. Chapter 12

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Coach, but you look like crap on a cracker.” Jared pulled no punches as he dropped his bag down on the marble floor of the hotel lobby.

“I’m not sure there _is_ a right way to take that,” Draco gritted out. He took another life-affirming sip of the tea that he had brewed in his room. He had been too much of a coward to partake of the free breakfast on offer in the hotel restaurant. The longer he could avoid Harry and Ginny after the weird atmosphere of the past evening, the better, as far as he was concerned.

“He’s not wrong though.” Patricia eyed him closely, seeming to take a catalogue of all his facial faults this morning. “You look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

Draco already knew that. The bags under his eyes were large enough to carry the entire team’s Quidditch gear. He had definitely imbibed too much last night and he had been grateful when the sexual tension-rife atmosphere that the three of them had been ensconced in last night had been broken by Jared running afoul of two rather large gentlemen by hitting on not one, but _both_ of their girlfriends. The two gentlemen had made their displeasure known and had managed to land a punch or two before the fight had been broken up by the bouncers and their entire party had been ejected from the establishment.

It had been a touch awkward between him and the fine couple in the limo as they had ridden back together, but fortunately, the rest of the team had been too occupied with Jared’s latest drama and hadn’t noticed the three of them getting up close and personal with each other. They had all ridden up in the elevator together and broken off into their individual rooms, with Draco offering a curt ‘Goodnight’ and retreating quickly into his room before Ginny could put up a protest. He had stood there with his back pressed to the door and had taken long, soothing breaths as he heard the murmured voices linger in the hall for a while, and finally the quiet beep of the room next door being unlocked.

Draco had breathed a sigh of relief. He was almost sure that, had he lingered in the hall for one more second, there was a good chance that one of their rooms could have gone to waste this evening.

Draco would have discarded Ginny’s flirtations as frivolous, but there was a shrewd look in her eye this evening that told him that there was a deeper meaning to her enticements. What was even more surprising was the look of want that he had been sure he’d registered on Harry’s face tonight while they’d danced. They had barely touched, but Draco had felt the charge of potential that had flowed between them, Ginny’s lithe body acting as a conductor.

Draco had absentmindedly cancelled the concealment charm he had hurriedly cast on his erection as he relived those few minutes between them. The erection had persisted through his nightly ablutions and he had stubbornly ignored it, the only concession he had made being to tuck the damp head into the waistband of his briefs. He had crawled into the bed and curled up on his side, slipping his hands under the pillow to ease the temptation to slide them down his chest and relieve his erotic discomfort.

He had had every intention of writing the whole evening off as a fluke. An unlikely combination of time and place and too much alcohol. And he almost succeeded too...until the sounds started. His eyes squeezed shut and he bit down hard on his lip and groaned, trying to distract himself from the rhythmic knocking sound that had just started from the room next door. He had fought it for as long as he could, but self-denial had never been in his wheelhouse and when the low groan had come through the wall, Draco had known he was in a losing battle and had thrown back the comforter, slid his briefs down to his thighs, and had given himself over to a fantasy that he was one room over in a sweaty tangle of limbs.

“I slept great! Morning everyone!” Draco jumped as Harry’s hand came down on his shoulder for a moment in a friendly greeting that sent a jolt of guilt through him as the paranoid thought that Harry knew what he’d just been thinking seized him. “Other than Ginny’s snoring, that is.”

“I do not _snore_ , you jerk!” Ginny came up behind him on the other side and Draco squirmed uncomfortably. Draco could feel Ginny’s eyes raking over him and he worked to school his features. “Morning everyone.”

“You _do_ snore,” Harry laughed as Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head, refusing to admit to it. He circled around behind Draco and wrapped his arms around Ginny’s waist, planting a kiss on her cheek that brought a smile to her face.

Draco cleared his throat and diverted his attention away, their position reminding him too much of last night. “Why don’t you lot start loading your things into the limo and I’ll get us checked out.”

Without looking back, Draco stalked towards the reception desk and waited in line behind a bottle blonde woman wearing impossibly high heels. Draco snuck a covert look out of the corner of his eye and relaxed as he saw the four of them exit out of the lobby door. He stepped forward, next in line, as the towering blonde teetered over to the desk and proceeded to complain loudly and with large arm gestures about her room.

“My husband will hear about this and then you’ll be sorry!” Draco couldn’t help the amused smirk at the twist on an old, familiar phrase of his as the woman stormed off, the sharp stilettos of her shoes echoing around the lobby. He was pretty sure he had been just as insufferable back at school, but at least he’d had the good sense to grow out of it, unlike that woman.

Draco greeted the beleaguered reception desk employee with even more friendliness than normal, hoping to chase away some of the lingering nasty energy that the woman had left behind. “Good morning. How are you today?”

The woman let out a short bark of laughter before throwing her hand over her mouth and shaking her head slightly. “I need another coffee if I’m going to get through today,” she sighed. Rallying herself, she asked Draco, “What can I help you with?”

“My party will be checking out now. Rooms 402-410.” Draco waited patiently as the woman typed away on her computer. He turned his head at the ding of the elevator and waved to Melissa and Jackson before nodding his head toward the exit.

“Ah, yes, here we go. It doesn’t look like you have any room service charges. Anything missing from the minibar?” Draco turned back towards the receptionist and gave her an amused look.

“There had better not be. They were under strict instructions that if they had any bad ideas about raiding the minibar, that I would demand their first-born child in compensation.” The woman laughed and Draco hoped his efforts were enough to brighten her day after the obnoxious woman’s outburst. It took a special kind of strength to work in customer service. Draco was pretty sure that if he ever attempted it, he would hex people into next Thursday. An Explosive Diarrhea Jinx would be particularly effective.

The receptionist grabbed several sheets of paper from the printer and knocked them together so that they were aligned before stapling them together and handing them across the desk to Draco. “Here’s your folio. If there does happen to be any minibar charges, we’ll mail you a new copy. Do you want to charge the rooms to the credit card we have on file?”

“Yes, thank you,” Draco gave a cursory glance to the stack of papers and, seeing nothing unexpected, he tucked them into his bag.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Yes, there’s one other thing,” Draco began. When the woman waited expectantly for him to continue, he gave her a roguish grin. “Have a fantastic day.”

The woman chuckled softly and nodded her head. “Thank you, Sir. I will.”

“Thank you,” Draco picked up his bag and headed toward the lobby exit. Pushing through the door, Draco took a few moments to enjoy the mild temperature, knowing that much harsher conditions were awaiting them upon their return to Moose Jaw. Sighing, he turned to the right and found the entire team there, David having apparently joined them while he was getting them all checked out. Several members of the team had their heads tipped back, as if they were trying to soak in the sun’s rays.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked.

Melissa sighed, her head tilted back and her eyes closed, before speaking, “Do we have to? It’s so nice here! Maybe our team could have, like, a winter training site?”

“That might be a tough sell to Sheena,” Draco said.

“Let’s go home,” Harry said, giving Draco a shy smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing Teddy.”

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, struck with a sharp longing to see his little girl. “Let’s go home.”

***

“How was your accounting conference?”

Draco shifted the phone to the other side, trapping the receiver between his ear and shoulder before picking up the knife and chopping into the onion. “It was really good, yeah. I was able to do a bunch of networking.”

“Networking, eh? I hope I don’t have any reason to be jealous.”

Brent was joking, but a boulder of guilt settled in Draco’s gut. Nothing had happened—not really—but Draco would be lying if he said that no part of him wished the opposite was true. “Of course not. Accounting conferences are just as wild and crazy as you would imagine them to be.”

Brent’s rolling laughter came over the phone and Draco couldn’t help but smile. He had a great laugh. Draco sniffed loudly as the onion’s pungent aroma began to wreak havoc on his sinuses.

“There’s no need to cry, sweetie,” Brent joked. “I believe you.”

Draco chuckled. “Well that’s a relief, but I’m in the middle of cooking dinner and this onion is particularly pungent.”

“Ooo, what are you cooking?”

“A beef stew,” Draco answered. “I don’t think my fingers have defrosted since I’ve been back and I thought something hearty would help.”

“Mmmm, that sounds delicious. You know...I know a great recipe for homemade bread that would go perfectly with that…” Brent trailed off, letting the fish for an invite hang between them.

Draco set the knife down and backed away from the cutting board. He ran his hands under the tap before wiping the tears that were trickling down his face away with the back of his hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It’s not like Lyra hadn’t already met Brent—they spent a good portion of the week together at the school—but Draco remained reluctant in introducing Brent to their lives outside of the school. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too soon for that. He and Brent had only been seeing one another for a little over a month now and surely it was too soon to play the happy family?

There was an awkward silence over the phone and Draco bit his lip, unwilling to be the one to break it. Finally, after what felt like forever, there was a sigh from the receiver. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Brent sounded less than convinced and Draco hated the disappointment that he’d caused in Brent’s otherwise upbeat outlook.

“How about I bring you over a serving for lunch?” Draco offered an olive branch.

“Yeah? That would be great. Thanks, Draco.” The disappointment wasn’t completely gone, but his tone was warmer and more affectionate.

“I should let you go. I need to pay attention or I’m liable to cut my finger off.”

“Well, one bonus of this weather is that there’s plenty of ice available to put any finger casualties in before you rush to the hospital.”

“Thank you, that makes me feel loads better,” Draco drawled and Brent chuckled.

“I rather enjoy those long, graceful fingers of yours though. Do me a favour and try to keep them all in one piece.” Draco didn’t miss the subtle innuendo laced through Brent’s request.

“I’ll do my best,” Draco promised. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

Draco hung up the receiver and stared at it in thought. Something had changed and he had uneasy feelings about this relationship with Brent that he didn’t have before. He wasn’t so far in denial that he couldn’t make an educated guess at the source of his sudden lassitude. Draco had been trying to forget the tingling thrill that had seemed to make every nerve ending in his body come alive on that dance floor, but he couldn’t shake it. And everything else felt drab and unsatisfactory in comparison; like vanilla ice cream after you’ve found out that dark chocolate truffle was an option.

Pushing those thoughts aside—because, really, he was probably just deluding himself that “dark chocolate truffle” was even available anyway—Draco resumed the chopping and mincing of vegetables for the stew. He was just cutting up the cubes of potatoes when Lyra trundled into the kitchen, freshly awoken from her afternoon nap.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she rubbed small fists against her eyes, trying to shake the somnolence off.

“I’m just getting our dinner ready,” Draco answered as he reached over and grabbed another of the freshly washed and scrubbed potatoes from the counter beside him.

“Can I help?” she asked, resting her chin on the edge of the counter and avidly watching the blade of the knife as it sliced through the juicy potatoes.

“This knife’s a little sharp for you, but…” Draco cast his eyes around the counter and smiled as he saw the small pile of carrots that he had yet to deal with, “I would be very grateful if you could peel these carrots for me?”

Lyra beamed up at him, excited that she was being included in the task.

“Okay, why don’t you take a seat over there at the table.” Draco nodded his head at the kitchen table and Lyra scrambled up onto the chair. Draco dug through the utensil drawer and pulled out the vegetable peeler, which had a lime green, plastic handle.

“Now, be very careful not to get your fingers,” he instructed as he demonstrated the proper way for her to hold the carrot. “Start from the middle and then work your way down, then flip the carrot around and do the same thing.”  He watched as she peeled the first carrot and was convinced she wasn’t at risk of skinning herself, and then he returned to the cutting board to dice the rest of the vegetables.

They spent the next hour working together to finish prepping all of the ingredients and get the stew cooking. Lowering the heat to low, Draco covered the pot and left it to simmer, letting the flavours evolve with a slow and low heat. “How about we read a book while we wait for this to be ready?” Draco proposed.

“Okay!” Lyra ran off, excited, towards the living room and Draco could hear her flipping through her collection of books in search of one that she wanted to read. Draco took a few minutes to make himself a cup of tea before he went to meet her in the living room, where she was already sitting with a large volume spread across her lap: _The Great Fairy Tale Classics_.

“I want to read this book, daddy!” Lyra grinned up happily at him as he grabbed a coaster and set his tea down on the end table before taking a seat on the sofa. Lyra scrambled over to sit nestled up to his right side.

“I’m not sure we’ll have time to read that _whole_ book,” Draco chuckled, impressed by his daughter's cunning.

“We can read...seven of them!” she offered magnanimously.

“Three,” he countered.

“Five,” she bargained and, laughing, he agreed.

“Okay, we’ll read five of them. Should we start at the beginning, or do you want to jump around?” Draco asked, knowing that this book came in two volumes, each one containing a series of short fairy tales.

“I want to reeeeeeaaaadddd,” Lyra flipped through the book with her eyes closed, “this one!”

She stopped on a random page and Draco flipped back a few pages until he found the start of the story and began to read. “Sasha, Mansor and the Storks. Once upon a time…”

The story ended up being about a cruel, wicked wizard named Kashenor who disguised himself as a merchant and sold the eponymous Sasha a jar full of a black magical powder which allowed him to turn into any animal he desired.

“Teddy’s momma could do that,” Lyra offered and it took a moment for Draco to realize that she meant Nymphadora and not Ginny.

“Teddy’s momma was a Metamorphmagus, which means she was able to change her looks at will,” Draco explained. “From what I’ve heard, she particularly enjoyed turning her nose into a pig’s snout.”

Lyra giggled and Draco continued, “But this is more like an Animagus. Do you know what an Animagus is?”  When Lyra shook her head, he explained, “An Animagus is a witch or wizard that is able to transform themselves into an animal.”

“Any animal?” Lyra asked, awed.

Draco shook his head, “Only one, but from what I understand, you get to choose the animal you want to turn into.”

“Hmmm.” Lyra’s face scrunched up in a look of deep thought and Draco waited for her to continue. “I would want to be a...dolphin!”

Draco nodded his head as if seriously contemplating the choice. “That’s a smart choice since you’re already such a strong swimmer.”

Draco continued reading the story and Lyra was thrilled that not only did the prince find a way out of the curse that had trapped him in the body of a stork, but he also found a princess that had been likewise duped into the form of an owl who was released from her own curse and the two could marry and live happily ever after.

In much the same way as the first, Lyra chose and he read the next three stories: “The Little Pear Girl”, who used courtesy and kindness to win the hand of the prince by capturing an enchanted treasure; “Til Ulenspighel”, a naughty rapscallion who flummoxed an entire town by jumbling their shoes together, claiming that ‘He who laughs last laughs longest!’; and finally, “The Red Dragon”, a silly story about how all the wild animals came to look so different (Lyra liked the illustrations on this story the most, with all the animals of the jungle sitting atop the dragon’s back).

Returning from the kitchen where he’d gone to check in on the stew, Draco said, “Dinner is almost ready, so we only have time for one more story.” He took his seat and Lyra cuddled up to him once more before flipping to the first story in the collection.

“Once upon a time, there lived an unhappy young girl. Unhappy she was, for her mother was dead, her father had married another woman, a widow with two daughters, and her stepmother didn’t like her one little bit.”

Draco flipped the page, but before he could start reading the next page, Lyra said in a low voice, “She’s like Teddy and I. Our mommies both died, too.”

It felt like a stone had lodged in his throat as he swallowed, trying to pick his words carefully, “Are you unhappy, sweetheart?”

Lyra cuddled closer to him and shrugged her shoulders. “I never got to meet mommy. Teddy, too. Sometimes we pretend that our mommies are friends up in heaven.”

Draco stroked his hand over Lyra’s head as he fought back tears. Lyra and he didn’t talk about Anastasia often because Draco was always afraid that talking about her would just upset Lyra. He realized now that he had perhaps been avoiding the topic more for his own sake than for Lyra’s.

“I know you don’t remember, but you did get to meet her. Just after she gave birth to you, the nurse handed you to her and she held you on her chest and said that you were the most perfect baby she’d ever seen.” Draco fought back tears as he remembered that moment. It had been, easily, the happiest moment of his life, and for that one brilliant, shining moment he had thought that perhaps he had earned that happiness; that after all of his self-introspection and growth, that everything would work out for him.

And in the blink of an eye, it disappeared. The Muggle machine that was monitoring Ana’s heartbeat had started emitting a shrill alarm and the doctors and nurses had become a flurry of activity. Lyra had been yanked from Ana’s chest and bustled away by a nurse and he’d been torn between following after his daughter and staying here with his wife. The decision had been made for him when one of the hospital staff had rushed him out of the room and the door had shut him out.

That had been the last time that he had seen his wife and all he could remember was that last glimpse he had of blood. So much blood.

Draco leaned down and kissed the top of Lyra’s head, holding her close. “If you have any questions about your mum, you can ask me. I’ll answer them as well as I’m able to,” he offered in a soft voice.

“Okay, daddy. Are you ever going to get me a new mommy?” Lyra asked as she continued to stare down, running her index finger over the painting of the unhappy young girl. A cat was watching her expectantly as she looked down at it while carrying a straw broom and a metal bucket with a washcloth hanging over the side. The lime green colour of her top contrasted nicely with the deep red colour of her hair and Draco thought she could pass for a member of the Weasley family.

“Oh...um…” Draco prevaricated, thrown by the sudden switch of conversation. “Would you want me to get married again?” Draco had dated a few people in the last couple of years, but he had never brought anyone home for Lyra to meet, not wanting to introduce a string of strangers that might upset her or that, worst case scenario, she became attached to only to have them disappear not long after.

“I don’t want a mommy that is mean to me,” Lyra objected.

“Of course not,” Draco rushed to assure her. “You’ll always be my top priority, and I would never stand for anyone being mean to my little girl.”

“Ginny is Teddy’s new mommy. And Harry is Teddy’s new daddy. I’m glad I still have you for a daddy, but maybe Teddy will share his mommy with me?” Lyra suggested and Draco shifted nervously, unsure what to say in response to that.

“Ginny is very fond of you,” Draco went with the closest thing to the truth that he could, “so I’m sure she wouldn’t be mean to you.”

Lyra grinned up at him and then pointed at the story. “Finish the story, daddy. I want to see the girl in her rainbow dress for the party!”

Draco cleared his throat and decided to file away this conversation for further examination later. For now, he decided to enjoy this moment where he had his wonderful daughter under his arm and he got to read her a fairy tale that guaranteed a happily ever after.

If only real life carried the same promise.

 


	13. Chapter 13

“Bugger!” Draco yelled as he stepped on something razor sharp. Hopping on one foot, he lifted the other to find a small Lego block stuck to the bottom. The doorbell rang once more as he yelled up the stairs, “Lyra, get your butt down here and pick up your toys or Santa is going to leave you coal!”

Hobbling over to the door on the outside of his foot, he pulled the door open and let out an involuntary shiver before smiling at the visitor. “Mrs. Oxborrow, come in, please. It’s freezing out there.”

The woman stepped in and brushed the flakes of snow off of her hat and the arms of her coat. “I tell ya’, I’m getting too old for this, eh? I should just pack up and become a snowbird like everyone else my age.”

“Snowbird?” Draco asked as he took the packages from the woman’s hands allowing her to take off her coat, before exchanging them back for the coat itself.

“Just a term we use around here for all the old farts that fly south during the winter,” she explained as he hung up her coat.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” Draco said as he gestured her through the doorway and into the living room. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“So you agree that I’m an old fart, then?” At the sight of Draco’s appalled look, she chuckled. “Don’t sully your underpants, I know what you meant. Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I chose the noble profession of teaching. And yes, I would love a cup of tea, thank you, dear.”

Draco excused himself to the kitchen and put the kettle on and then promised Mrs. Oxborrow he would be back in a minute. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on Lyra’s door. “Lyra, I asked you to come downstairs and clean up your toys.”

“I will in a bit, daddy. I’m just in the middle of colouring this picture,” his daughter’s voice drifted back to him through the thin material of the door.

“That can wait. Come downstairs now, please. Mrs. Oxborrow is here and I don’t want her to trip on one of your toys and hurt herself.”

A heavy sigh could be heard before there was a scrape of chair legs against the wood and the door swung inwards. “Okay, daddy. But can I finish my colouring after?”

“Of course you can,” he promised her and the two of them made their way down the stairs, Lyra in the lead.

“Oh hello, sweetheart,” he could hear Mrs. Oxborrow greet his daughter warmly, but he couldn’t make out her response as he made his way back towards the kitchen where the kettle was just beginning to whistle. While he let the tea steep, he poured a glass of milk for Lyra and arranged a few cookies on a plate and loaded them all onto a wooden serving tray.

“Tea is served,” he announced, taking a look around the floor to make sure that there weren’t any more Legos lurking. He was relieved to see that all of her toys seemed to have been collected and were now piled inside of the toy box sitting beside the TV stand, which was stuffed so full that the lid wouldn’t settle properly. “Lyra, I brought milk for you.”

“I want to have tea too,” the little girl whined.

“We can put some tea into your milk, how does that sound?” Draco suggested and she nodded excitedly. Draco poured a small splash of tea into her milk glass and handed it over to her.

“It has to be in a teacup,” she stated, refusing to accept the proffered glass.

Sighing, Draco set the glass back down on the tray, which was placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa where Mrs. Oxborrow and Lyra were seated, and left to fetch a third teacup from the kitchen. He poured the mixture into the procured teacup until it was half full and then passed the teacup and saucer (because he just _knew_ she would demand there be a saucer) over to his daughter.

“Thank you, daddy!” she exclaimed. Lifting her pinkie finger in the air, she took a small sip of the drink and then set the cup and saucer down on the table in front of her with a proclamation of, “Mmmmm, delicious!”

Mrs. Oxborrow chuckled at the little girl’s antics. Turning to Draco, who had taken a seat in the armchair on the other side from her, she said, “She must keep you quite amused.”

Draco gave his daughter an indulgent, fond look. “She’s quite the character.”

“She brought us presents, daddy!” Lyra bounced excitedly on the sofa as she pointed to the terry cloth bags that were resting on the floor between the sofa and his armchair.

“Well, that’s very kind of her. Sweetheart, why don’t you go and grab the present we got for her from under the tree.” He pointed to the small tree in the corner that barely topped 5’ tall. “It’s the one to the right there with the big silver bow.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” their neighbour protested, but she seemed touched by the gesture.

“I could say the same for you,” he retorted, nodding at the bag of gifts. The old woman laughed.

“Guilty as charged. But I felt I had to get you something to show you how grateful I am for all those times you were out there shovelling my walkway.”

“Well then, I guess we’ll both just have to accept our presents graciously,” he smiled at the neighbour as Lyra returned to the couch, crawling up onto the couch beside her.

Mrs. Oxborrow bent over and hoisted the bags she had brought onto her lap. “Let’s see now… this one is for the young miss.” She handed a thin, brightly coloured package that was wrapped in paper that had small cartoon reindeers on it to Lyra. “And this one's for you.” She handed a small box wrapped in a much more demure, white wrapping paper with small bunches of holly interspersed on it.

“Can we open them now, daddy?” Lyra begged, her fingers already slipping under the edge of the paper between where it was held closed with small pieces of tape as if they were just dying to rip away the wrapping.

“Welllllll,” he dragged out the word, enjoying the look of increasing concern on his daughter’s face, “these are supposed to be Christmas presents, and it isn’t Christmas Day yet…” He bit back a laugh at the look of desolation on her face. “But I suppose we can make an exception.”

In a flash, the melancholy morphed into joy and Lyra ripped into the paper, making no effort to preserve the wrapping. “It’s a book! Look, daddy! It’s a book!”

“That is one of my favourite books,” Mrs. Oxborrow explained. “And it is based on a song which I’m sure you’ll love and...oh, will you look at that!” She dug around in the bag once more before pulling out another small package. “I just happen to have a copy of the music here!”

Lyra’s eyes lit up at the surprise second present and she tore into it before Draco could even give her permission to. “Well, I guess we’ll make two exceptions today,” he noted drolly.

“Well, really it’s all part of the same present.” Mrs. Oxborrow winked at him and he chuckled.

Lyra held up a CD case in triumph. “Can we listen to it now? Pretty please!”

Draco stood up and took the CD from her and walked over to the TV stand to put it into the CD player that was on the shelf. A soft strumming guitar emerged from the speakers. Lyra became engrossed in the book and the music and Draco sat back down and gestured for Mrs. Oxborrow to open her present. “You’re next.”

Draco watched as the woman undid the silver ribbon holding the bow on and then ran her wrinkled finger along the seam of the wrapping paper, carefully lifting the tape and folding the wrapping paper into a neat square that she set aside. When she noticed Draco’s look of amusement she waved a dismissive hand at him. “Don’t give me that look! That’s perfectly good wrapping paper and it can be reused.”

Draco’s face dissolved into a small laugh and after a few moments, she joined him. “Over forty years as a teacher working on a shoestring budget made me reluctant to waste anything,” she explained with a shrug and a slight colouring of her cheeks.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. From what I hear, teachers pay for a shocking amount of their classroom supplies out of pocket, so reusing wrapping paper seems infinitely reasonable,” he rushed to assure her.

“You’re sweet,” she said, smiling back kindly at him, the crow’s feet in the corner of her eyes a sure sign that she’d smiled often over the course of her life. Draco envied her those crow’s feet. Mrs. Oxborrow turned her attention back to the carved, wooden box that was sitting on her lap, newly unwrapped. “This is lovely!”

Draco had found the small trinket box at a local craft fair and had marvelled at the elaborate floral design that had been carved into the top panel of the box. The tiger lily looked just as he had remembered them looking that first time he had gone out to the farm to have Sunday dinner on Andromeda’s urging. In the background, behind the lily, were carved three stalks of wheat, the design obviously intending to reference the Saskatchewan flag.

“That’s not the only gift,” he pointed out as she inspected the box, running her fingers over the design as if the sense of sight wasn’t enough to appreciate the work. “Look inside.”

Mrs. Oxborrow shot him a surprised look before taking the base of the box in one hand and the top in the other and opening it up, setting the lid back on its hinges. She took out the white envelope which he’d had to fold in half to get it to fit and opened it up. “Oh, I can’t accept this! This is too much!”

“You absolutely will accept it because it would be unbelievably rude to reject a gift.” Draco laughed when she gave him a dirty look, before adding, “And it’s not just from me, but from Lyra too.”

Lyra, torn from her new favourite book by the sound of her own name, looked up. “It’s from me too!”

Mrs. Oxborrow laughed and then thanked her somberly, “Well that is far too generous of you!”

“Daddy says that of all the faults to have, genosity is a good one.”

“Generosity,” Draco corrected.

“Generosity,” the little girl repeated to herself several times under her breath, trying to commit the word to memory.

The two adults watched her fondly and then Draco turned back to Mrs. Oxborrow. “That coupon is good for one night at the Temple Gardens Mineral Spa, complete with a full day of pampering in the spa. It's the least that I can do for all the times you’ve helped out with watching Lyra, not to mention all those amazing shortbread cookies.”

Mrs. Oxborrow laughed at that. “Well then, I guess you’re going to be pleased as punch with your present then.” She passed over the large gift bag she’d brought for him as Draco’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Now, at the bottom, there is a container with some small bags of cookies that I thought you could bring to the school’s Holiday Bake Sale. They were quite popular when I was still working there, and I bet they won’t go amiss now.”

She seemed to know exactly what Draco was thinking and rushed to assure him that there was also a Rubbermaid container of cookies in there especially for him and Lyra, and he looked relieved. “There’s also a little something in there for just you.”

Draco pulled out a nondescript, white cardboard box and opened the top flap. Reaching in, he pulled out a coffee mug and examined the unusual design on it.

“Lyra gave me that picture that she drew a couple of weeks ago,” Marjorie explained. “Didn’t you, sweetie?”

Lyra ran around the coffee table and over to her dad’s side. “I drew that!” she exclaimed. Pointing to each of the stick figures that were printed on the mug in a rainbow of colours, she walked him through the depiction, “That’s me. I’m the smallest. That’s Teddy. He’s bigger than me, but only by a little bit. That’s Auntie Dromie over there in her separate house, but she’s super close if we need her.”

“And is this me?” Draco asked as he pointed to one of the remaining stick figures. It was the only one left with blonde hair, though the messy spikes of colour looked more like Harry’s chaotic look than his own, even if he had let his hair grow out a fair amount since they’d moved here from his usual buzz cut.

“Yup, that’s you, daddy. And that’s Ginny and that’s Harry.” She pointed to the distinctive red-haired stick figure to the left of his own and the brown-haired figure to the right of him. “They’re holding your hands.”

Draco shot a nervous glance at Mrs. Oxborrow, concerned she’d get the wrong idea. “Why are they holding my hands?” he asked.

“Because they’re your friends,” Lyra explained as if he was slow and the answer was obvious. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at his daughter.

“Well this is the most wonderful drawing and I’m so glad that it has been immortalized on a coffee mug,” Draco proclaimed.

“What does that mean?” Lyra asked as she tugged on the collar of his shirt.

“It means that your drawing will exist forever on this beautiful mug so that I can enjoy it every day,” he explained. She beamed proudly at him. Draco turned to Mrs. Oxborrow and inclined his head gratefully. “This is a very thoughtful gift. Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas!” she said jovially. “Now...maybe you have enough of that generosity leftover to spare one of those shortbread cookies?”

Draco laughed and took the lid off of the Rubbermaid container, offering it to Mrs. Oxborrow and then Lyra before taking one of the delicious treats for himself.

 

***

 

“Oh my god! Are those _the_ shortbread cookies?”

Draco smiled at the woman who had bent forward and whispered the question to him as if she didn’t want to alert anyone else to his small table. “They are, indeed,” he confirmed. When he had told the organizer of the Holiday Bake Sale that he had brought in packages of Mrs. Oxborrow’s legendary shortbread to the sale, she had eyed him skeptically until he’d opened one of the small foil bags and had offered her a sample taste. Her doubts had been quickly dispelled and, somewhat paradoxically, he had been ushered over to a small table that was tucked away in the far corner of the gym, almost hidden behind the bleachers.

It wasn’t long before he had realized that she had stuck him back here in the hopes that the coveted baked goodies would go unnoticed and she could buy up the leftovers at the end of the sale.

“I’ll take three bags—no...four…” the woman eyed the row of foil bags, each one tied with a curled red ribbon and stuffed with 5 of the cookies. “Yes...four.”

“That will be $20,” Draco informed her. She looked ready to balk at the steep price, but one more longing look at the treats and she must have come to the conclusion that they were worth the price. The woman pulled a wallet out of the large black purse thrown over her shoulder and counted out four blue tinted five-dollar bills and handed them over. Draco accepted the bills and slipped them into the metal tin he’d been given before picking up four of the packages and handing them over to the woman. “Thank you very much.”

The woman smiled at him gratefully and then, with a shifty look around her, quickly ferreted away the cookies into the depths of her purse.

She was just turning away when Brent appeared from around the bleachers. “Here you are! Who’d you piss off to get stuck way back here?”

Draco smirked at him as Brent circled around the table to come stand beside him. “Power always corrupts,” he explained cryptically. When Brent just looked at him confused, Draco laughed lightly and then nodded his head in the direction of the volunteer parent that had organized the fundraiser. “Mrs. Nagel over there is hoping that by sticking me back here, she can buy all the leftovers.”

Brent looked over in Mrs. Nagel’s direction to see the woman scowl in their direction for a moment before turning her attention back to the clipboard in her hands. Brent looked confused for a moment and then his attention turned back to the table and he seemed to take in the contents of the table for the first time. “Whoa! Are those really _the_ shortbread?!”

Draco nodded, looking smug.

“How? Where?” Brent seemed at a loss for words as he reached back and started pulling out his wallet.

“I have my ways,” Draco preened, before reaching out and squeezing Brent’s wallet closed. “Your money’s no good here. I saved a package especially for you.” Draco reached under the table and grabbed one of the packages of cookies that he had placed there.

“Have I told you lately how fantastically wonderful you are?” Brent asked, grinning broadly at Draco as he took the package and pulled off the ribbon. His eyes rolled back into his head in an exaggerated look of ecstasy as he bit into the cookie. “The best!” he moaned, small crumbs of buttery shortbread and icing sugar shooting out of his mouth as he spoke.

Draco laughed. “What’s the best? Me? Or the cookies?”

Brent just shook his head before popping the last bite of his cookie into his mouth. Draco watched, amused, as Brent made borderline explicit moaning sounds before swallowing and then licking the powdered sugar off of his thumb and index finger. “That’s an impossible question to answer. If it were just some average cookie, you’d win easily, but against this cookie? It’s a tie.”

Draco, in a low voice, threatened him jokingly, “I’ll remember that slight on our next date.”

Brent threw one of those disarmingly bright grins and Draco rolled his eyes as he returned the grin.

“Those aren’t...those aren’t Mrs. Oxborrow’s shortbread, are they?” The two men had been so preoccupied that they hadn’t seen the short brunette parent slip up to the table.

“The very same,” Draco confirmed. Brent asked Draco to swing by his classroom once the sale was over and Draco agreed, waving the distracting man away while the woman started arguing about the quoted price of the packages.

The rest of the bake sale went by quickly as word seemed to spread about his table despite its less than desirable location. He had just sold the last package when Harry and Ginny walked up. Draco didn’t miss the smug look on the final customer’s face when she spotted the disappointed look on Harry’s face, or how she clutched the foil bag closer to her body as if she feared Harry would yank it out of her hands and make a run for it.

“Oh man! Don’t tell me we missed them!” Harry whined. “Ginny just _had_ to finish watching some stupid soap opera and we got here late. We’ve only just found out that they’re for sale and they’re already gone. I’m _never_ going to have a chance to try these things!”

“Antonio was declared DEAD, Harry! Obviously, I needed to know what happened at the memorial service,” Ginny protested. Noting Draco’s questioning look, she explained, “Passions. It’s silly, even for a soap opera, but Andromeda got me hooked on it.” She shrugged, looking entirely unrepentant. “Besides, the last thing you need is more sweets,” she laughed and poked Harry in his stomach, causing him to dart away from her.

Harry stuck his tongue out at Ginny and the two laughed. “We’ve been hearing about these damn cookies for two years, ever since Teddy started at the school,” Harry explained. “I was starting to think they were just an urban legend or something.”

“Ah, well, then you’re in luck.” Draco cast his eyes to the side dramatically before squatting down and removing the other four packages of cookies he’d squirrelled away. “I just happened to have set aside a package for each of you, and one for Teddy and Andromeda, too.”

Draco was amused by the way Harry’s face lit up at the sight of the cookies. He wasn’t sure how Harry managed to muster such childlike excitement over something as simple as cookies—even if they were the best cookies that Draco had ever tried.

Draco handed over one of the bags to Harry and watched as he tore into it impatiently. Chuckling, he handed the remaining three to Ginny. “These are probably safer with you.”

“Merlin, Gin! They’re even _better_ than people made them out to be!” Harry groaned as he savoured the first bite.

“Let me try—” Ginny was cut-off as Harry smacked her hand, which had been reaching towards the open bag in his hand, away.

“Hands off! These are mine!” Harry swivelled around, putting his body between Ginny and the bag.

“Oh, for—” Ginny shoved the two packets for Andromeda and Teddy into her purse, freeing her hands, and then opened her own package. Harry watched smugly as Ginny’s mumbles under her breath about how ridiculous Harry was petered out and her eyes flared wide at the first bite. “Oh….god….that’s better than sex!” she declared, rather louder than was strictly required, earning the three of them scandalized looks from the other parents standing nearby.

Draco snorted as Harry said, “Gee, thanks, Gin.”

Ginny shook her head and took another bite of the cookie. “Sorry, babe, you’re going to have to up your game if you want to earn back your title as a sex god.”

“Sex god, huh?” Draco asked, one eyebrow shooting up at the juicy tidbit.

Ginny laughed. “Okay, ‘Sex god’ might be overstating it a bit, but he does do this thing with his tongue where he—”

Harry, seemingly frantic to stop Ginny from spilling anymore of their bedroom secrets, grabbed a cookie from his package and shoved it into her mouth. Ginny very much had the look of a cat that ate the canary when Harry realized he had sacrificed one of the precious treats, and they all shared a hearty laugh.

The three stood chatting with one another until Mrs. Nagel circled around again and Draco handed her the metal cash box with the very respectable $100 dollars he’d managed to raise. Harry pulled out his wallet and tried to pay for the cookies, but Draco told him that they were his treat and he thanked him gratefully. Mrs. Nagel, rather than looking pleased with the rousing success of his having sold out even before the bake sale ended, seemed put-out that her nefarious plan to hide him away in the corner hadn’t worked. She grabbed the cash box with a curt “thanks” and then stormed away.

“What crawled up her butt and died?” Ginny asked, earning a snort of laughter from Harry.

Draco smirked. “I really don’t want to know.” He grabbed his heavy winter coat from the floor where he’d stored it and settled it over his forearm. “I have something I need to do, but are we still on for Christmas?”

“Definitely! You and Lyra can come over at any time on Christmas Eve,” Harry agreed.

“Lyra is very excited about spending Christmas there,” Draco said. “It’s always just been the two of us, so our Christmases have always been pretty small affairs.” In all honesty, Draco had never really made a big deal about Christmas before and Lyra had been too young to really notice, but ever since December had begun, she had spoken of little else. Draco had even had to make a frantic trip to the grocery store to buy an advent calendar when Lyra had broken down in tears, convinced that Santa wasn’t going to visit her because she wasn’t counting down to his arrival.

“Well, we’ll give her a taste of something else this year,” Ginny smiled at him. “Complete with eggnog, Christmas carols, and matching pyjamas for the whole family...the works!”

Truthfully, it wouldn’t just be Lyra who would be experiencing a full Christmas for the first time. Christmastime at the Malfoy Manor had always been more dedicated to elaborate balls and greasing the wheels with bigwigs at the Ministry. Christmas had been a chance to network while people’s better instincts were dulled with mulled wine and the spirit of the season. The expectation for Christmas morning had been that Draco would present himself promptly at 8 am, no sooner and no later, properly attired and ready to pose for the professional photographer that had been hired to document the manufactured familial bliss.

It wasn’t until Hogwarts that Draco had experienced first-hand how Christmas was treated very differently in other families. He had gotten a taste of something genuine at Hogwarts, but even there, Slytherin house had always been far more reserved and stoic about the holiday than other houses seemed to be. In many ways, this would also be Draco’s first _real_ Christmas.

“When you say 'the whole family'...” Draco registered what Ginny had said. Draco started having some misgivings about the upcoming holiday celebration when Ginny and Harry exchanged what could only be described as shit-eating grins.

“You’re going to look positively _adorable_ in the pyjamas with booties attached that we got,” Ginny confirmed, laughing.

They looked far too pleased with themselves, so Draco decided to not feed into it. “We’ll see. Anyway, I have something to attend to, so I should go do that now. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve.”

Ginny and Harry waved goodbye and then they parted ways, them heading off to check out the other tables of goods for sale, and Draco wending his way through the various tables to the far side of the gym and the entrance to the school.

There were a few students loitering in the hallways as he made his way past empty classrooms towards the far end where the kindergarten classrooms were located. It seemed that most kids were outside enjoying the various winter fair activities that had been set up earlier in the day. Lyra had been so excited for the snowman competition and had made Draco transfigure a variety of clothing and accessories for her class to use to decorate their snowman this morning before they’d left the house.

Draco reached Brent’s classroom and poked his head in as he knocked on the door. He broke into a grin when the man popped out from behind the bookcase that partially divided the reading corner on the far side of the room from the rest of the class.

“Oh! Thank goodness it’s you! Can you come over here and help me with this?”

Draco chuckled as he watched Brent attempt to arrange two pillows side-by-side in front of his belly, his chin holding up the red and white material of the Santa coat as he held open the extra-wide waistline of the matching pants. “This is...very festive,” Draco sniggered.

“Principal Wallace usually plays Santa Claus, but he went on Weight Watchers this year and lost like fifty pounds and now he doesn’t want to do it this year,” Brent explained.

“And how did you get roped into it?” Draco asked as he took the elastic waistline of the pants and held it out so that Brent could more easily navigate the pillows into them.

“I _may_ have gotten a bit tipsy at the staff Christmas party and volunteered myself,” Brent said ruefully.

Draco laughed as he let go of the elastic, letting it slap back with a dull thud against the pillows. Brent dropped the suit jacket over them and did a few minor adjustments before holding his arms out and striking a pose. “How do I look?”

“You look...festive,” Draco settled on.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Brent squatted down and dug through a gym bag on the ground before pulling out a hat and a bundle of white hairs. “Here, hold this,” he requested after pushing himself back to his feet and tossing the hat, complete with a fluffy, white pompom on the end and a curtain of fake, wavy, white hair hanging from a large portion of the brim.

Brent unfurled the other bundle of hair and held it up to his face, arranging an elastic band around the back of his head, over his ears. With beard in place, he held out his hand for the hat from Draco and then pulled it over his head, covering his own light brown hair. “Better, eh?” he asked as he stroked the long, white beard.

Draco tilted his head, considering the outfit. “It just needs…” Stepping up close to Brent, Draco enjoyed the sharp intake of breath from the other man before lifting his hands to encircle his face. He could feel the pressure against his hands as Brent leaned forward slightly, then with a grin, Draco gave the other man’s cheeks a sharp pinch.

“Ow!” Brent leaned back and away from the assault. “What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks?!”

Draco put on an innocent expression. “What? Now your cheeks look nice and rosy. Besides,” Draco pitched his voice lower, even though they were alone in the large room, “the parents might have some concerns if they walked in and saw their child’s teacher sucking face in the middle of the school day.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s true,” Brent agreed as he cast a nervous look to the classroom door, which was wide open. “I suppose we’ll just have to control ourselves, even if you do look sexy today.”

Draco cast a look up and down the much more rotund than usual physique. “It will be difficult, but I’ll find a way to control myself.” Brent laughed and the pillowcases bounced up and down lightly. “What time does your flight back to Winnipeg leave?”

“At 7:30 pm. I should have just enough time to get home after work, pack, and make it to Regina on time for my flight. Ugh, I hope it doesn’t get delayed. They’re forecasting a storm tonight, but it's not supposed to hit here until later.” Brent cast an uneasy look out the window at the drab, grey sky.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I got you a little something.” Draco reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out the gift he’d gotten for him: a brass paperweight in the shape of an apple with Brent’s initials engraved on the bottom.

“I got you something too!” Brent exclaimed, taking the neatly wrapped gift from Draco and striding over to his desk. Pulling open the top drawer of his desk, he withdrew a long, narrow present. Draco took the proffered gift and went to open it, but Brent stopped him. “You can’t open it now! It’s not Christmas yet!”

Draco just stared at him for a moment. “Seriously?”

Brent nodded fervently. “You have to wait until Christmas day to open it.” To emphasize his point, he tucked Draco’s gift to him away in the drawer and shut the drawer in a decided motion.

“Well, alright then. I hope you have a good flight home then,” Draco said, tucking his gift under his arm.

“You too. Have a Merry Christmas, Draco,” Brent returned. He cast an annoyed look toward the door and Draco followed his glance. They stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before Draco decided to take action. Setting his gift down on Brent’s desk, he unfolded the long coat that was draped over his arm and held it up, creating a shield between them and any prying eyes at the door.

Brent watched him, amused but still too far away, until Draco let out an annoyed huff. “Are you ever planning on kissing me, then?” Brent laughed softly and then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. Arms above his head holding the coat up like a curtain, Draco licked his lips and leaned forward. Their lips met in a soft press of skin, Brent’s hands tensing and holding Draco close for a few seconds before releasing their hold and slipping away.

Clearing his throat, Draco dropped the coat and folded it nearly, draping it over his arm once more. Chancing a glance at the door, he was relieved to see that there were not any shocked or appalled faces aimed in his direction, their brief indiscretion apparently going unobserved. Draco picked up the gift from the desk and held out his hand. Brent, looking amused, took it and the two shook hands perfunctorily. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Gardner.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Malfoy,” Brent returned, parroting Draco’s assumed formality.

Without saying anything further, Draco pivoted on his heel and walked towards the door, only stopping for the briefest of moments to give Brent a knowing smile before he swished out of the classroom.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: This chapter contains homophobic language and violence.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us you could play the piano?” Ginny accused as Draco slid onto the bench sitting in front of the upright piano against the wall of the living room in the old farmhouse. The soft flannel of the pyjamas slid freely across the polished wood of the seat.

Turns out that Ginny had not been kidding about the matching pyjamas, and immediately upon their arrival, he and Lyra had both been presented with a one-piece pyjama outfit that matched the ones currently being worn by Harry, Ginny, Andromeda, and Teddy. Draco had balked, but Lyra, the little traitor, had joined forces against him and he had given in. He felt ridiculous in the outfit, which was printed to look like the body of a reindeer, but at least they all looked ridiculous. And, he would never admit it out loud, but the warm flannel was very comfortable.

Draco shrugged. “You never asked.” At the scoffing sound behind him, Draco smiled, unseen by the rest of the small party gathered behind his back. “I haven’t actually played since before the war, so don’t have your expectations set too high.”

“You can’t be worse than Ginny. She only lasted three months in her lessons and never managed to progress past ‘Hot Cross Buns,’” Harry said, laughing as Ginny smacked him on the arm.

Draco watched the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree reflected in the polished wood grain of the piano. His mother would have dubbed the tree “garish”, with every branch overflowing with mismatched decorations, various strands of garland, and draped with large clumps of tinsel—which had apparently been Teddy’s task during the decoration process. Draco had the same impression when he’d first seen it, but Andromeda had been quick to explain many of the memories and stories that were tied to each of the mismatched ornaments, their significance belied by their simple appearance. Now, the tree seemed homey and reflective of a lifetime of happy, shared memories and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would choose an impersonal, professionally decorated tree over this.

“Play, daddy!” Lyra encouraged from her spot on the couch where she was sitting between Ginny and Andromeda.

Draco took a deep breath and reached out, resting his hands lightly atop the ivory keys. He depressed his thumb, stretching the C note out until it trailed off.

“Already better than Ginny,” Harry joked from the end of the couch closest to the piano.

“You’re a prat, you know that?” Ginny bit back, but even without turning around, Draco could hear the levity in her voice that indicated she wasn’t truly offended.

“Play ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’, daddy!” Lyra requested excitedly.

“What’s ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’?” Andromeda asked from the rocking chair on the other side of the room, over Draco’s left shoulder.

“It’s my most favouritest song!” Lyra enthused. “Mrs. Oxborrow gave me the book and CD for Christmas. It’s about a magic dragon named Puff who lives in a land far away from here.”

“A magic dragon, eh?” Ginny asked, her voice dripping with such smugness that Draco couldn’t help but spin around on the bench as an ominous feeling crept over him. “Dragon...as in…Draco?”

A wide smile split Harry’s face as he came to the same conclusion as Ginny, just slightly slower. Draco had already made the connection several days ago when Lyra had asked him to read her new book at bedtime, but he had been hoping that luck would be on his side and the coincidence would go unnoticed by anyone else. Apparently, luck was not on his side.

“You’re a magic dragon!” Harry spit out, his head falling back against the back of the couch as he laughed at the joke.

Lyra and Teddy started to giggle as the rest of the adults dissolved into laughter, even Andromeda seemed to be having trouble controlling her mirth as she wiped away tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Come on, Puff! Play us some Christmas carols then!” Ginny cried from the couch.

“You lot are the worst,” Draco accused as he turned back around to face the piano, a begrudgingly amused smile on his face. He couldn’t say that he loved the new nickname, but it did make him feel like he was a part of something, that they’d all become close enough to have loving nicknames for one another, and he did love that feeling that it gave him. But he would have to warn Ginny and Harry that ‘Puff’ stayed between them and was not disseminated to the rest of the team, or there would be dire consequences. He was not sure what, exactly, but he would put every drop of Slytherin cunning he had into coming up with something.

“You two leave my poor nephew alone. Go ahead, Draco.” Andromeda sent a look of mild rebuke over to the two supposed adults on the couch who were sniggering like a couple of first years.

Draco picked up the songbook and paged through it, looking for something to play and finally settled on “O Holy Night.” He propped the book open and took a deep breath before placing his hands on the keys. The sounds of laughing faded out and, when it was silent, Draco started to play. All those years of lessons came flooding back to him as his fingers skimmed over the keys, the gentle song resonating around him.

He had been playing for about thirty seconds when Lyra came up beside him and pulled herself up onto the bench. She sat beside him, absorbed in the fluid movement of his hands dancing over the keys. Not long after, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see Andromeda standing behind him, where she began to sing, “ _A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn._ ”

Another hand, Ginny’s, came to rest on his other shoulder as Teddy climbed up on the other side of him on the bench, leaning back against Andromeda. Ginny and Harry joined in and the medley of voices floated around him as he continued to play. Teddy chipped in with the odd word here and there, but many of the lyrics seemed to be unfamiliar to him. Lyra just hummed along, not knowing any of the words, and Draco smiled when she reached out and placed her own small hand on top of his as if she was trying to memorize the movements.

When he was approaching the end of the page, he gestured with his head and Ginny leaned forward, her long hair wafting the smell of strawberries into his sinuses, and turned it for him. Finally, he reached the end of the song and the final note faded into oblivion.

“That was beautiful, dear,” Andromeda complimented him with a light squeeze to his left shoulder.

“Can I learn to play piano, daddy?” Lyra asked.

“Me too!” Teddy piped in. “I want to learn too!”

“Of course you can,” Draco agreed.

“Play Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer now!” Teddy demanded.

The sing-along continued until Andromeda suggested that they all have a hot beverage before bed. Lyra and Teddy both had hot chocolates, which were less drinks and more vehicles for mini marshmallow consumption; they each arranged such a thick topping of marshmallows along the surface of the drink that it all but precluded them from actually drinking it.

The adults all sipped on warm eggnog and rum garnished with a sprinkle of nutmeg on top. The rich, thick dairy beverage was a new experience for Draco and he found it too cloying until Harry showed him the trick of cutting it with milk to reduce the thickness.

They gathered once more in the living room, this time with Draco joining them on the couch, Lyra snuggled on his lap while Teddy sat nestled between Harry and Ginny. The children made a valiant effort to stay up and wait for Santa, but it wasn’t long before the Lyra’s rhythmic breathing indicated she had fallen asleep on his lap.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Ginny announced, reading his mind. Teddy put up a token protest but gave up quickly as soon as Draco had agreed that Lyra could sleep in his bed with him. Harry escorted Teddy to the bathroom to ensure that he brushed his teeth while Draco maneuvered his daughter in his arms so that her head was resting on its side on his shoulder.

Once they had managed to get both children relocated upstairs and tucked away into the bed, Lyra roused for long enough to request a story. Not surprisingly, she requested her new favourite, “Puff the Magic Dragon”, which Harry was more than happy to retrieve from her backpack, which he _Accio’d_ up the stairs. Draco was just about to start reading when Lyra demanded Ginny read it instead, so he handed it over to her. Harry laid back along the bottom of the bed while Draco and Ginny lay on either side of the bed, surrounding the children.

Draco propped his head up on his hand while he looked down at his daughter, who was watching Ginny read, rapt. After a couple of pages, Lyra’s blinks began to stretch out until they stopped altogether, her long, fine eyelashes coming to rest against the curve of her cheek. Teddy managed to last through the end of the story and then, with a mumbled “g’night”, turned on his side and dropped his arm over Lyra, who didn’t stir.

The three adults tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Andromeda was setting a cleaning charm on the dishes from dinner.

“Another drink, Andy?” Harry asked, pulling out the carton of eggnog from the fridge and setting about preparing another round of drinks.

“Not for me, thanks. I just wanted to get these dishes cleaning and then it’s off to bed for me.”

“Draco? How about you?” Harry asked.

Draco cast a glance at the wooden cuckoo clock on the wall. “Sure. We’ve got a little time until Santa is due to arrive.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Ginny hustled over to the cupboard and pulled out a plate before pulling the package of cookies out of another cupboard. Removing one cookie, she took a bite, leaving about half, and then dropped it on the plate. “If we put the cookies out before he goes to bed, Teddy just eats them. We eventually figured out we could just leave leftovers of one and tell him Santa ate the rest.”

“Smart,” Draco agreed.

Ginny poured a half-glass of milk and then took a drink, leaving lip prints on the glass, before leaving the room with Santa’s leftovers to leave them in the living room. Harry handed Draco his mug of eggnog and rum and the two of them joined Ginny in the living room once more. Draco started heading towards the armchair that Andromeda had vacated, but Ginny stopped him.

“Don’t sit all the way over there, we’ll practically have to shout at you. Come sit over here on the couch with us.” Ginny leaned over Harry and patted the couch cushion on the other side of him. Draco hesitated for a moment before changing course and settling himself on the couch to Harry’s left.

“So, what do you think our chances are for winning our next game against the Stormers?” Harry asked.

“No, absolutely not. We are _not_ going to do ‘office talk,’” Ginny protested. She adjusted herself so that she was leaning against the armrest with her legs draped over Harry’s, her booted feet resting against the outside of Draco’s thigh. Draco took a swig of his drink as he tried to rein in his wayward thoughts.

“You love talking about Quidditch!” Harry accused, rubbing his hand up and down Ginny’s leg without thought.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to come up with something else to talk about. We’re three young, vivacious people. Surely there’s something other than work that we can talk about. Like…” she seemed to think for a moment before a thought came to her, “New Year’s Eve! What are your plans for New Year’s, Draco?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t actually sorted out any plans yet. I don’t actually like New Year’s that much. There’s always so much planning and hype for it and it almost always ends up being disappointing.”

“That’s what I always say!” Harry agreed, earning a scoff from Ginny. “But this one here adores it. She’s always dragging me out to some party where I have to make awkward conversation with drunken strangers.”

“Drunken strangers are fun!” Ginny countered. “You have to come out with us this year, Draco! You and your Mr. Gardner have to come with us!”

“Ummm, maybe…” Draco equivocated, the idea of a double date with Harry and Ginny sitting uncomfortably with him, for reasons he refused to look at too closely. “I’ll ask him when he’s back in town.”

A sly look bloomed on Ginny’s face. “I probably still have his home number somewhere. Harry, why don’t you hand me that cell phone you got me for Christmas and I’ll leave a message on his answering machine?”

“You promised you wouldn’t peek at the presents this year! I wanted it to be a surprise!” Harry pinched her thigh and she quickly retracted her leg, the spot on Draco’s leg feeling chilled for a moment before she settled it back in place.

“I promised I wouldn’t unwrap and rewrap the presents this year,” she countered. “I never promised I wouldn’t go hunting for your hiding spot. It only took me about twenty minutes to find them buried underneath the potatoes in the root cellar.” She winked at Draco, who laughed.

That woman was dangerous, and Draco was definitely a fan.

“Oh, don’t pout, Harr bear!” she cooed at Harry, who seemed to be pouting ever so slightly. Leaning forward, Ginny forced Harry’s head toward her and then leaned forward, bringing their lips together in an affection-filled kiss.

Realizing he was staring, Draco forced himself to avert his eyes and watch the slowly twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. Fortunately for him, the lovebirds disengaged before he could awkwardly excuse himself and the conversation was turned to safer topics. Once they had finished their drinks, they all retired to their bedrooms, knowing that they were likely to have an early wake-up call in the form of two small children.

He wasn’t sure if it was the cozy warmth of the flannel pyjamas, the belly full of eggnog, or the homey creaking of the old farmhouse, but Draco’s head had barely hit the pillow before he was asleep.

 

***

 

“Here, Brent, here’s your noisemaker.” Ginny doled out the flimsy paper funnels that were topped with a short piece of white plastic.

Brent took the proffered noisemaker and placed it between his lips, sending out a quick honk of sound before grinning, holding the plastic between his teeth.

“Are these really necessary?” Draco asked, eyeing the offending toy with a disdainful look.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Ginny accused, sticking her tongue out at him. When he opened his mouth to argue, her hand darted out and before he could clamp his mouth shut again, the plastic had been placed between his lips. His huff of annoyance was transformed into a perky toot and Ginevra threw him a shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, Draco, don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

Harry turned towards him and moved to blow the deceptively loud paper tube right by his ear before Draco stopped him with an icy-toned, “Don’t even _think_ about it.”

Harry grinned at him and threw his arm convivially over Draco’s shoulder before turning his head and blowing the horn in the opposite direction instead.

“Get off of me, you oaf!” Draco shrugged Harry’s arm off and pushed him away, but there wasn’t any heat in it. “I’ll get the next round.”

Draco navigated his way through the densely packed bar, the New Year’s Eve celebrations making it more crowded and more rowdy than usual. After what seemed like a mile, he finally managed to make his way over to the bar. It was another five minutes until he was able to squeeze in between the waiting throngs and lean on the bartop. It was another five minutes after that that he was finally able to flag down the attention of one of the harried-looking bartenders and place his order for three beers and a rye and coke for himself.

While Draco waited for his drinks to be ready, he glanced around the bar. There was a DJ in the back corner blaring a non-stop stream of thumping beats that reverberated through the room and he felt like it was rattling the bones of his ribcage. The flashing lights added to the club-like atmosphere, their beams piercing the thick veil of smoke from the smoke machine.

“Hey, buddy!” Draco spun back around, realizing that the bartender had been trying to get his attention and looked annoyed. “That’ll be $26.”

Pulling out his wallet, Draco thumbed through it and pulled out two of the green-coloured $20 notes and set them on the bar. “Keep the change,” he shouted over the cacophony.

“Hey, thanks, man!” The annoyance on the bartender’s face parted at Draco’s generous tip. Draco couldn’t help but feel bad for them, having to work the shift on such a hectic night; they definitely deserve the tip.

Draco gathered the three beers in one hand, placing each of the tall glass necks between two of his fingers, then grabbed his own drink with his other hand. Turning around, a splash of sticky rye and coke washed over his hand as he accidentally bumped into a man behind him.

“Watch where you’re going,” the burly man spat as he squared his shoulders into an offensive stance.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Draco apologized. Stepping to the side, Draco made to step around the man but was halted when the man side-stepped so he was standing in front of Draco again.

“You wanna go outside?” the angry man asked, leaning forward aggressively and sticking his face in Draco’s personal space. Draco could smell the thick fog of alcohol on the man’s breath that suggested that he was considerably more than three sheets to the wind.

Draco didn’t want to fight this hothead, but he’d faced far more terrifying bullies than this pathetic excuse and there was no way he was going to run off with his tail between his legs either. Draco stood his ground, adopting the mask of indifference that had been one of his few protections against Voldemort during that hellish time that he’d been forced to share a roof with the monster. He poured all of the knowledge of what he would be willing to consider doing to this goon if he had the liberty of pulling out his wand right now.

“No, I’m good. But I think you should take a walk and clear your head, friend.” The vitriol that practically dripped from the last word stood in sharp contrast to its innocuous face value.

The beefy drunk eyed him up and down, sizing him up, for a few seconds before his friend tugged on his arm. “Hey man, just leave it.”

He and Draco continued their death glare for a few more moments before the guy turned away with a muttered, “Whatever, fag.”

Draco was sorely tempted to set their drinks down and see how this jackass liked having his arse handed to him by a “fag”, as he called him, but Draco took a deep breath and suppressed the urge. He would be the bigger man here.

Draco made his way back over to their table where he was greeted with a round of cheers and claims that they were about to send out a search party for him. Draco forced a smile onto his face and tried to shake off the lingering anger from the confrontation at the bar.

“Hey, are you okay?” Brent asked, leaning in and eyeing him with a concerned look.

“Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” Draco assured him. Picking up his abandoned noisemaker from the table, he slipped it between his lips and let out a short honk, earning him a laugh from Brent.

“Only ten more minutes until it’s time to ring in the New Year PARTYING!” the DJ’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, followed immediately by a loud cry from the assembled party-goers.

Draco was relieved that midnight was almost on them and he would soon be able to excuse himself and head home. He actually did have fun tonight, and he didn’t regret that Ginny and Brent had successfully conspired to talk him into coming out to the bar tonight, but he was ready for the night to come to an end now—hopefully with Brent spread out, desperate, and begging underneath him.

They talked about what their New Year’s resolutions would be (and how long they were likely to actually last before they inevitably gave up on them) for the next few minutes until the DJ announced that there was only a minute left. As the music faded down into nothing, the bar was filled with the sound of hundreds of people counting down in unison.

“5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Draco laughed as the other three tooted on their noisemakers meaningfully until he joined in. As he watched, Harry pulled out the toy and threw it onto the table before taking Ginny in his arms and dipping her backwards. Pulling the paper horn from her mouth, he planted a boisterous kiss on her lips as she laughed.

“Happy New Year, Draco,” Brent congratulated in his ear as Draco turned to him and they embraced, arms wrapping around one another. Pulling back slightly, they settled on a far more subdued kiss. Being gay was hardly unheard of in Moose Jaw, but there were still a lot of people that felt it was something that should be kept behind bedroom doors. Fortunately, all the drunken revellers were too busy embracing their various lovers, friends and (most likely) strangers, to take notice of them.

“Happy New Year!” Ginny beamed before pulling Draco into a crushing hug, complete with a kiss on his cheek. Even Harry seemed swept up in the festive spirit and wrapped his arms around Draco, who tentatively wrapped his own around Harry’s waist, Harry’s cloves and cinnamon scent replacing Ginny’s strawberry one in his nostrils.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” he offered and Harry returned the greeting as they pulled apart.

The music resumed, a thumping beat that triggered a migration of people to crowd the dance floor and gyrate against each other. The four of them remained at their table and finished their drinks until Ginny declared her intention to drag Harry onto the dance floor. Draco and Brent exchanged a look and when Draco jerked his head towards the exit, Brent nodded, agreeing. They made their excuses, declining Ginny’s insistence that now was the perfect time for her to teach Draco the Macarena, and joined the queue to reclaim their coats from the coat check.

Stepping outside, the cloying heat of the club was replaced by the bite of the sub-zero temperatures outside and Draco could feel the sweat on his skin evaporating away. He zipped up his coat and pulled his toque and mittens out from the pockets, yanking them on quickly, the sensitive, exposed skin of his ears already cool to the touch.

Winter clothing firmly in place, they made their way down the sidewalk, stepping carefully on the slippery concrete, it having not been salted recently. They talked idly as they made their way back to Draco’s house. The temperatures would not permit them to be outside for long, but fortunately the bar was only a ten-minute walk from his house, so they’d opted to walk earlier and be able to partake in drinks without worrying about leaving their cars unplugged overnight and not being able to start them again when they went back for them.

They had walked several blocks when the hairs on Draco’s neck had stood on end. He cast a glance behind them and noticed that there were two people walking behind them, about a block back.

“What’s wrong?” Brent asked as he turned his head to see what Draco was looking at.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Draco reassured him, saving none of it for himself. The two figures—men, he was pretty sure—were not doing anything overtly threatening, but Draco couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that was making his skin crawl. He squinted through the drifting snow, but couldn’t make out any of their details, their faces masked behind long scarves. It was hardly a rare sight, but Draco was finding the winter accessory vaguely unsettling.

Brent distracted him, recounting a story about his family Christmas. Apparently, Brent’s cousins, Steven and Sarah, and Sarah’s husband, Stephen, had joined them from Ontario this year. Sarah and Stephen’s two children, Sylvia and Scott, had also been there, and the plethora of “S” names had proven too taxing for his elderly grandmother to handle and she had spent the entire visit calling Brent “Steven.” Draco laughed loudly when Brent shrugged and admitted that after a couple of days of correcting her, he just decided to roll with it and had started answering to Steven.

Before he knew it, they were standing in front of Draco’s house and he was just pushing open the ice-coated gate latch when a loud shout came from his right side. “Hey! Faggots!”

Draco stood confused for a moment, having pushed aside the foreboding feeling from early, but as he saw the two figures rushing towards him, the feeling grew exponentially. “Get inside!” Draco barked, trying to push Brent through the waist-high gate, but he seemed perplexed and was too slow.

Too quickly, the men were upon them.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Brent held up his hands in a careful gesture, having apparently realized that these men were a threat.

“And we don’t want any of you fudge-packers in our city,” the main aggressor spat as he pulled down the black wool scarf to reveal his face. Draco wasn’t surprised to see that it was the drunk jerk that had stepped up to him in the bar.

“Brent, go inside,” Draco ordered without breaking eye contact with the man. If he could only get Brent inside, he was sure he could find some way to distract these idiots for long enough to get his wand out of the holster on his calf and send a couple of _Obliviates_ at them—and maybe a few hexes to satisfy Draco’s desire for vengeance.

“I guess we know which of these fucking faggots wears the pants in the relationship and which one wears the panties, don’t we Curtis?” The two men guffawed at each other.

“We’ve all had a little too much to drink and if we just—”

Time seemed to slow down as Brent stepped forward before Draco could stop him. The friend, Curtis, read it as a sign of aggression and his right hand came up and connected with Brent’s jaw, sending his head snapping towards Draco, his body tugged behind it. Draco staggered under Brent’s weight, trying to stay upright on the slippery ground, and then time went into fast forward and before Draco could react, his new enemy’s forehead was flying towards him and he heard the cracking sound of his nose breaking beneath the onslaught.

Draco’s vision blacked out for a second before turning on again just in time to see a fist coming at him and making contact with his eye. Losing his balance, Draco toppled to the ground with Brent landing atop him, immobilizing his legs. He knew he had to get up, to get access to his wand, which was pressed between his leg and the ground, but then all the breath rushed out of his lungs and he was left gasping like a fish out of water as their attackers’ heavy snow boots made repeated contact with his torso.

The grunts of pain and groaning from Brent barely registered as a series of kicks rained down on him. Draco did his best to shield himself from the vicious blows until the darkness crept over his vision again and the world went dark.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco floated up into consciousness to a metallic, rhythmic beep-beeping sound. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to clear the fuzziness from his brain and assess his surroundings. Draco could feel his left hand ensconced in the soft warmth of another’s grip and the occasional muffled sniffs that told him they were crying. Draco peeled his eyes open to find Andromeda sitting next to him, her head bowed and eyes on her hands, where her thumb was slowly stroking up and down the hills of his knuckles.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice cracking and an insistent throb of pain pulsing in his jaw.

“Oh! Oh my!” Andromeda’s head shot up and her eyes studied him intently, her face breaking into a tremulous smile. “Thank Merlin, you’re awake!”

Draco looked around the room, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He appeared to be in a Muggle hospital, the other three beds in the room closed off from view by curtains. What looked like late afternoon sun was shining in through the nearby window and warming his right side.

“What’s—” Draco’s throat felt rough and dry and he started coughing. A constellation of pain lit up his body at the activity and he grunted in discomfort.

“Shhh, don’t try to talk. Here, I’ll get you some water.” Andromeda let go of his hand and stood up, pouring a glass of water from a jug on the little table stretched over the bed at his legs. She tried to hold the cup up to his mouth but he resisted, and eventually, she let him take it with a cluck of her tongue.

He took a couple of small, tentative sips and his throat felt immediate relief. He handed the cup back to Andromeda and then sank back into the too-thin pillows with a sigh of relief. “What happened?”

Andromeda busied herself arranging the vase of bright, sunny, yellow flowers that were in a vase on the tray. “I don’t—what do you remember?” She gulped, obviously upset.

Draco searched his memory for a few moments, trying to call up the memories of what had landed him in this hospital bed. He remembered the bar, and the flush on Ginny’s cheeks, and the dopey, happy grin on Harry’s face. He remembered counting down to midnight and the frothing excitement of everyone as the clock struck midnight. Then flashes of the cold night, swirling snow, two dark figures…

“Brent? Is Brent alright?” Draco asked, adrenaline rushing through his veins and masking the pain as he pushed himself up in the bed.

“He’ll be fine,” Andromeda rushed back to her chair and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “He had some internal bleeding and a broken jaw, but the doctors have said that he’ll be alright in a few months. His—” Andromeda hiccoughed, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, “his injuries weren’t as severe as yours. Do you remember anything about what happened, dear?”

Draco rubbed his temple, his head throbbing as if fighting against imprinting the memory. “Two homophobic arseholes followed us back from the bar. I tried to get Brent inside so that I could take care of it, but they sucker punched us before I could get to my wand and then they were kicking us and...and then my memory cuts out.”

“Oh, dear.” Andromeda covered her mouth with her hand, fresh tears glistening in the corner of her eyes.

“How did I get here?” Draco asked, scraping his brain for any memory from the intervening hours, but came up blank.

“That neighbour of yours, Mrs. Oxborrow, I think?” At Draco’s nod of agreement, Andromeda continued, “She heard shouting and saw the attack and called the Muggle police. The two attackers ran off when they heard the sirens, but the emergency crews rushed you both to the hospital. She may have saved your life.” Andromeda’s voice was solemn and she dabbed at her eyes with a bunched up Kleenex that she pulled out of the pocket of her sweater.

Draco prodded experimentally at his stomach and chest, wincing as he mapped out several particularly tender areas. Draco looked up when a strangled sound of distress escaped Andromeda, but she quickly tried to mask her distress with a wobbly smile. “We haven’t been able to use any magic to help you heal faster because we didn’t want the Muggle doctors to get suspicious,” Andromeda explained, leaning down close to him and whispering in a low voice so that the rest of the inhabitants of the room couldn’t hear her. “As soon as we get you home, we’ll have you healed up in no time.”

“Home.” Panic erupted inside of him at the sudden realization that two violent criminals now knew where he lived, where his daughter lived. He forced himself to sit up again, ignoring the pain. “Where’s Lyra? She can’t go there—it’s not safe. They could come back!”

Andromeda rushed to assure him, “You don’t have to worry about that, she’s safe. Harry and Ginny took her and Teddy out to the farm to feed them dinner, but they will be back later.”

“How is she handling this? What does she think happened?” Draco asked, his heart easing back to its normal rhythm now that he knew his daughter was safe and taken care of.

“She’s putting on a brave face, but she’s worried about you. We haven’t gone into any details with her yet, and have just told her that you’ve been injured, but that you’re going to be fine.”

Draco nodded. He’d have to think about how he wanted to explain this to Lyra. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want her to be scared or think that he was in danger. “Okay, thanks. Can she stay with you on the farm for a few days? I’ll need to find us a new place to live and get us moved and—”

“You’ll obviously stay with us,” Andromeda stated as if the solution was obvious.

“Thank you, that would actually be really helpful, assuming it’s okay with Harry and Ginny, of course. I promise we won’t be in your hair for long; as soon as I’m out of here I can start looking for a new place to rent.”

“You won’t be ‘in our hair’ at all. You’re family, and you belong with us.” When Draco looked like he was about to protest, she continued, “Besides, it will be good for Lyra to live somewhere where she can practice her magic without worrying about drawing unwanted attention. I know she’s had a couple of incidents at school because her magic has built up to uncontrollable levels. This way, her magic will have an outlet to diffuse safely.”

“I just don’t—”

“Just think about it, okay? Promise me you’ll think about it,” she demanded.

Draco hesitated before nodding minutely, “Alright, I’ll think about it, but I doubt Harry and Ginny will want us cluttering up their house.”

“Living with this one for four years has me practically immune to clutter,” Ginny joked as she walked into the room holding Lyra in her arms, Harry and Teddy coming up behind her, holding hands.

Draco didn’t even hear Harry’s retort, his eyes were glued on his little girl’s face, which looked shy and uncertain as she eyed him in the bed. When they noticed Draco struggling to sit up again, Harry pointed out the remote and raised the backrest of the bed so that he could sit comfortably again. Ginny set Lyra down on the edge of his bed, but she sat there nervously, just out of his reach.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked cautiously.

“We’ll just run down and get some coffee and give you two some time alone,” Ginny offered tactfully. “Can we bring you back a tea?”

“Thank you,” Draco agreed. A swell of belonging filled him as first Andromeda, and then Ginny leaned down and pecked him on the cheek, whispering that they were relieved to see him awake. After Draco joked that Harry obviously didn’t feel the same, to his shock, Harry followed their example. He righted himself with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the look of surprised embarrassment on Draco’s face before he promised they’d be back before visiting hours ended.

Lyra sat quietly, swinging her legs off the end of the bed and Draco watched her for a minute before he broke the silence. “Tell me what’s wrong, Lyra.”

“You’re hurt,” she mumbled, not looking at him.

“You don’t have to worry about that. The doctor gave me a prescription to make me feel better.”

Lyra turned to look at him, hope lightening up her features. “Really?”

“Really,” Draco nodded. “And it’s time for my next dose. The doctor said that I need a regular dose of hugs to get better.” He held his arms open and smiled at the bright look on her face as she scrambled across the bed on her knees and crawled onto his lap, nestling her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her small body, the pain screaming at him easily drowned out by the relief of having her close.

“I’m feeling better already,” he declared and Lyra let out a little giggle.

“What happened to you, daddy?” she asked as she pinched and twisted the coarse material of the baby blue hospital gown he’d been dressed in.

Draco bought himself some time, stroking his hand over the fine hair of her head, so soft that the strands could easily be mistaken for 1000-thread count sheets. “A couple of men decided they didn’t like me,” he settled on tentatively. “But I want you to know that I am going to be right as rain very soon.”

“What does ‘right as rain’ mean?” Lyra asked, craning her head back to look up at him.

Draco smiled down at his sweet daughter. “It means that I will be all healed and back to normal very soon.”

“Oh…” Lyra trailed off, replacing her head against his chest, nestled in under his chin. “Why didn’t they like you?” she asked. “You’re very nice.”

Draco smiled to himself. “They were just big bullies.”

“Mr. Gardner says that if anyone is bullying us, we should tell a grown-up. Did you tell a grown-up?”

“I will definitely tell the police as soon as I can, but I wanted to see you first. You’re my first priority, always.”

Lyra wrapped her arm around him and they sat there taking comfort in each other’s presence until Lyra’s breathing evened out and he felt her sag against him, asleep. He breathed in the bubble gum scent of Lyra’s shampoo and gave thanks to every deity, Muggle and Magical alike, that she was safe and in his arms.

Draco looked up at Ginny’s soft knock across the room and he waved them in.

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked as she took a seat in the chair Andromeda had vacated earlier. Teddy came to stand beside her and she pulled him up onto her lap and wrapped her arms around his narrow waist.

“I’ve been worse,” Draco offered, “but Voldemort did excel at setting a very high bar for misery. Where’s Andromeda?”

“She went home, but she said to tell you that she’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning, as soon as visiting hours begin. This has been really hard on her, and now that you’re awake I think it’s all caught up to her. She’s been worried sick about you.” Harry sat on the edge of his bed, one leg bent and propped up. He looked almost relaxed, but Draco could see the dark bags under his eyes that suggested Andromeda wasn’t the only one that had had a long night.

“Listen, before she went home, she told us that she’d offered for you to stay with us,” Ginny began.

“It’s a crazy idea, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell Andromeda that it was me that declined the offer,” Draco rushed to appease their conscience.

“On the contrary.” Ginny shook her head. “Harry and I have discussed it and we agree with her.”

Draco eyed them alternately, convinced that he must have a concussion and was misunderstanding. “That’s very kind of you, but that’s a terrible idea.”

“We disagree. You’re in need of a place to stay,” she ticked arguments off on her finger while Teddy leaned back against her shoulder, uncharacteristically sombre, “we have plenty of room, we have all the protections in place for a magical household, so you won’t need to worry about violating the Statute of Secrecy by mistake.”

“Plus, we’ll be able to use the carpool lane,” Harry added, the lame attempt at a joke landing like a dead fish in the middle of the room. Ginny shot him a dirty look.

“I’m glad this is so funny for you, Potter,” Draco replied, tone icy and falling back on old habits.

“I’m sorry.” Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with this thumb and index finger before settling them back in place. “I’ve always had a knack for saying the wrong thing. I don’t think _any_ of this is funny in the least.”

After a few seconds, Draco nodded.

“In all seriousness, we’d love to have you both come stay with us. Teddy loves having Lyra around and Andromeda would feel so much better having you close by.”

Draco didn’t say anything, the first bricks of his resistance to the idea starting to crack. He liked the idea of Lyra being in a place where she could explore her magic without fear. A place where she would be surrounded by people who cared about her. Who loved her.

“And we would, too,” Harry added and Draco’s gaze shot up to meet Harry’s emerald-green gaze. “We want you there as well.” Draco sucked in a shaky breath at Harry’s heartfelt declaration. Draco could hardly believe that they’d somehow found their way to this point, and Draco knew that he would never be deserving enough for this level of forgiveness.

“But it’s up to you,” Ginny said, offering Draco a Kleenex from a square, pink box on the bedside table, but making no further indication that she had noticed the dampness of his eyes. “We will be here to support you no matter what you decide and will help you with whatever you need.”

“Absolutely, we’re here for you,” Harry agreed and Draco let out an involuntary sob.

“It’s okay if you cry, cousin Draco,” Teddy broke his demure silence. “There’s nothing wrong with boys crying.” Draco let out a choked laugh-sob and wiped away the tears from his eyes. Lyra shifted against him but didn’t wake up, for which he was glad. He was concerned that if she saw him crying it would just upset her more.

“Thank you, Teddy,” he offered the boy a small smile.

“Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy? Do you think you’d have time to answer a few questions now that you’re awake?” They all turned to see two police officers dressed in black from head to toe, with a thin red stripe running up the side of their pants.

Draco felt his heart speed up at the idea of reliving the attack, but he worked to keep that panic hidden, donning the Malfoy mask that had served him well on so many occasions. “Of course. Do you think you could take Lyra back to the farm for the night?”

“Of course.” Harry stood up and carefully slid his arms under Lyra, lifting her off of Draco’s chest and holding her against his own. “Do you want us to come back later?”

Draco longed to take Lyra back into his arms and hold her close, never letting her out of his sight again, but an equal and opposite need to have her as far away from the upcoming conversation was pulling him apart from the inside. “I’m not sure how long this is going to take, and I want her to maintain as much normality as possible, so maybe tomorrow would be better.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded.

“Ted, go with Harry now, sweetheart.” Ginny gave the boy a firm hug and then guided him off of her lap and to his feet. “I’m going to stay here with Draco.”

Draco was about to argue when Harry cut him off, “Good idea. I’ll see you at home later. I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco. Come on Ted-o.” Harry walked slowly toward the door, taking cautious steps to not wake the slumbering little girl in his arms.

Teddy waved at the two of them and then hurried to catch up to Harry, who was speaking in low voices with the two officers. With a final look back at the bed, Harry followed Teddy out into the hall and they disappeared around the doorstep.

The two police officers walked over to his corner of the room and took up positions beside him, opposite of Ginny, who leaned forward and rested her crossed arms on the bed. The two figures cut an imposing picture, one side of the man’s thick, insulated jacket pulled back and tucked behind a billy club slung in his utility belt.

The other, a First Nations woman with her hair secured at the base of her neck in a tight bun, held up her notebook and poised herself to take notes. “Mr. Malfoy, can you tell us what you remember of what happened last night?”

Draco recounted what he could of the evening, including the run-in he’d had with the thugs earlier in the night, describing what he could remember of their appearance. Ginny spoke up occasionally to correct him on times and other small details, but for the most part, she was just a steady, reassuring presence beside him.

Draco managed to maintain a calm exterior while answering their questions about the early evening, but when he got to the part where he had to recount the confrontation outside of his home, he found a frenetic panic start to creep up on him and he thought he might crack apart. Ginny, sensing his creeping distress, took his hand in hers in a gesture of reassurance that Draco didn’t have the words to express his gratitude for.

“He needs a few minutes,” she told the officers. To their credit, they didn’t push him, instead, they waited patiently for him to regain control of himself. After a few minutes, Draco had managed to calm himself down and resume his tale, though with considerably more stuttering pauses in the delivery.

After what felt like hours but was probably only half an hour or so, the interrogation wound down. Tucking the notebook back into the inside pocket of her jacket, the female officer gave him a sympathetic look. “We’ll do all we can to track these guys down. We’ll keep you informed on any progress we make.”

“Thank you,” Draco acknowledged, not holding out much hope since the men had been so nondescript that he doubted they’d be able to find a needle in a haystack. Average height and brown hair was hardly a flashing beacon.

“Here’s a few numbers for you.” The male officer pulled out his wallet and removed a business card from it. “My contact information is here, in case you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to call us. And there’s a couple of numbers for victim resources written on the back for you.”

When Draco made no move to take the card—partly because exhaustion was starting to win the day and he just wanted them to be gone now, and partly because he didn’t like how that label of “victim” made him feel—Ginny took it instead, studying the numbers on the back.

“Thank you for your time.” The officers tilted their hats at Draco and Ginny and then took their leave. Draco couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him, but then—to his horror—his face crumpled and all of the fear, panic, exhaustion and stress took possession of him and he wept. When he realized that the last time he had lost control this completely was the day that Anastasia had died four years ago, he wept even harder.

He was horrified that Ginevra was here to witness this, but there was no stopping it. Now that the fuse had been lit, there was nothing to do but let it run its course. Ginny didn’t try to console him, she didn’t even say anything; she simply slipped off her coat, placing it over the back of the chair, and kicked off her heavy winter boots before climbing up on the bed.

Slipping under the covers with him, she scooted in beside him and slipped her arm around his neck before urging him towards her. Draco resisted at first, but it wasn’t long before the tempting circle of her arms proved too difficult to resist and he crushed himself against her, wrapping his arm around her waist and taking solace from her arm wrapped around him as she stroked his back.

Draco could feel his tears soaking through the soft, cotton material of the tee-shirt she was wearing, the damp material clinging to both of their skin. She didn’t seem fussed though and continued to hold him tightly, the snug physical contact dichotomous to the quiet space she was giving him to work through the jumble of emotions that were rioting inside him.

Finally, his tears ran dry and exhaustion swamped through him, the combination of the day’s events and his puffy eyes from the protracted crying jag threatening to drag him down into unconsciousness any minute. “Harry probably wouldn’t like this...” he observed, unable to resist nuzzling his nose into the base of her neck and breathing in the calming mixture of strawberries and vanilla.

“Wouldn’t like what exactly? That we cuddled in bed together? Or that you’re apparently a big crybaby?” Her tone wasn’t cruel or mocking, but rather, warm and fond, and Draco couldn’t help the small hiccough of a laugh that escaped him. “He’ll understand.”

As if to drive home the statement, she pulled Draco closer and rested her jaw against the top of his head. “Somehow I doubt that,” Draco said through a wide yawn that sent a spasm of pain through his jaw that caused him to miss the “I think you’d be surprised” that Ginny whispered under her breath.

“Sleep now, Puff.” The whispered endearment was the last thing he registered before sleep swamped him once more, a look of contentment on his face.

***

“Careful with that, you oaf! That box has a set of china that has been in my family for four generations!” Draco practically screeched when Harry, tripping over his own feet, stumbled forward.

“Alright, alright. Sorry!” Harry set the box down with an extreme level of caution by the front door. They had been packing boxes all day and just about had all of Draco and Lyra’s—surprisingly meagre—possessions packed up and ready to be moved to the farmhouse.

“Lyra’s room is all done.” Ginny jogged down the stairs holding a box above her head with ‘Teddy bears’ written in large, neat block letters on it. Letting it drop in front of her, she slapped her hands against the side and caught it again before plunking it down on one of the stacks of boxes in the front entryway. “I’m starving! What’s the plan for dinner?”

“I couldn’t have gotten all of this done by myself, so dinner is on me. Whatever you guys want.” Draco collapsed onto the sofa and rested his head back. Healing potions had done wonders since he was released from the hospital three days ago and his body was back to normal, but his mental well-being wasn’t nearly as quick to recover. He’d been plagued with nightmares, unsurprisingly, for the last few nights and the lack of sleep was starting to show.

“It’s our pleasure,” Ginny said good-naturedly as she sat down beside him and placed her hand on his knee. “Friends help each other, simple as that.”

“And _good_ friends help each other move.” Harry gathered a stack of books off of the bookshelf and placed them into a box at his feet.

“True,” Draco drawled, “but _great_ friends don’t ask you to help them move.”

A snort of laughter erupted from Ginny and she clasped a freckled hand over her face, which flushed just enough that it was almost as if she glowed. “You know, you’re actually pretty funny, Puff. Why weren’t we friends in school?”

“Your lot were all busy saving the world and my lot were busy trying to burn it to the ground.” Draco pushed up the sleeve of his bunnyhug and held his left arm out extended. The stark black lines of the mark had faded to a dark red. With Ginny’s colouring, the mark would almost appear natural, like an extremely unlikely arrangement of freckles, but on his pale complexion, the mark was a broadcast of the many poor decisions he’d made in his past.

A sombre atmosphere filled the room, carried in by Draco’s self-recrimination. They sat in silence for a spell, Harry and Ginny unable to contradict Draco’s assertion. Ginny rallied herself and tried to restore the convivial mood that they’d had all day. “We should all go get tattoos. You can get something to cover that up.”

“The least I can do is live with this reminder of who I am,” Draco said tersely.

“It’s not who you are though. People change. You’ve changed,” Harry’s impassioned voice contained far more confidence in him than Draco felt in himself.

“Thank Merlin for that! Can you imagine if Harry still had that atrocious haircut that he had in fourth year?!” Ginny’s face was a picture of mock-horror while Harry spluttered, offended, from his spot on the floor across the room.

“You said you liked it!” he accused and Ginny laughed.

“Of course I did. You were one of the Hogwarts champions and, as such, you had half the girls in that school, and probably a solid 10% of the boys, panting after you. I had a crush on you; I was hardly going to be the one to inform you that you looked like a middle-aged women’s football coach!”

“So what does it say about you that you still had a crush on me?” Harry asked, looking smug.

“That she had very questionable taste,” Draco smirked. Harry looked like he just took a big mouthful of toenail fungus-flavoured Polyjuice Potion and Draco’s smirk morphed into a full grin.

“Oh, don’t pout!” Ginny grabbed one of the throw pillows off of the couch and tossed it at Harry, where it bounced off his head and set his glasses askew. Then, Ginny sat up straight and leaped off the couch with an instruction that Draco should stay put. She rushed out to the front hallway and Draco and Harry exchanged confused looks as they heard the shuffling of boxes from out of eyesight, followed by the tearing sound of packing tape being removed.

Ginny emerged in the doorway to the living room triumphantly, a cardboard box of Lyra’s Crayola markers held aloft. Scurrying back to the couch, she resumed her seat, but sat sideways, facing Draco on the couch, before pulling his arm onto her lap.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Draco asked bemusedly.

“Well, until we can get that tattoo—”

“I never agreed to get a tattoo!” Draco protested, but Ginny just waved him off, swatting at the words as if they were pesky flies.

“We’ll just have to improvise,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. She studied the tattoo with a thoughtful expression on her face until an idea seemed to come to her and she smiled. Pulling his arm over to rest on her leg, a wet, tickling sensation teased the nerve endings on his arm as she began drawing. Draco rested his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Ginny’s palm against his skin.

“The cheeks need to be a little rosier.” Draco’s eyes startled open as Harry’s body settled at Draco’s feet and he leaned over to inspect Ginny’s artistic masterpiece; he hadn’t heard him cross the room and he fought the urge to shift uncomfortably at their combined proximity.

“Just one more thing…” Draco watched as Ginny pulled out her yew wand and tapped the design. He hadn’t been brave enough to inspect the drawing yet and Harry’s amused laugh didn’t bode well.

“That looks great, Ginny! Definitely an improvement,” Harry said and Ginny looked pleased with the verdict.

“What do you think, Draco?” Ginny asked eagerly.

“I don’t want to look.” Draco resolutely screwed his eyes closed, sure that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it.

“Ah, come on, Malfoy. You’re not...scared, are you?” Harry teased and Draco shot him a dirty look. His tactics were juvenile and pathetic...and effective. Draco steeled himself with a deep breath and then chanced a look at his arm.

Draco put up a valiant fight, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the grin that was forcing its way onto his face. The Dark Mark had been transformed, the skull topped with a thick mop of hair and beard that looked ratty and tangled. The cheeks were coloured in a lurid red that overshot “rosy” by quite a few shades. Most of the snake was covered up with a thick brown beard, but a small portion of it was covered with a wooden-tipped pink umbrella, which was being held up to vibrant, red moue.

“So…what do you think?” Ginny asked again, her eyes alight with amusement and her own cleverness.

Draco wrestled his face back into a neutral expression. “It’s a testament to how much I detest this thing that Hagrid is an improvement.”

“Hey now, Hagrid is a friend of mine,” Harry protested, but he wore a look between a smirk and a grin that made it clear he wasn’t truly taking any offence.

“You can get this mug tattooed on your arse, if you like it so much,” Draco proposed. As soon as the words were out, he wanted to shove them back in, along with the mental image they produced. He had a sneaking suspicion that even having to see Hagrid’s hirsute likeness wouldn’t detract from that particular view significantly.

Fortunately, Harry and Ginny didn’t seem to notice his discomfort and they laughed together, relating the story of the time that Ginny had gotten so drunk during the Halloween party in Gryffindor tower in her last year that she had mooned the entire tower.

Draco had just started to relax once more when three loud raps on the door sent his heart rate skittering erratically. The primitive part of his brain plunged him into a fear response, convinced that those two goons had come back for another round before his rational brain had a chance to have a say in it.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Draco pulled deep breaths in through his nose and then out again, trying to get his reactions under control. Ginny’s hand on his arm and Harry’s on his knee provided him with a grounding, something to hold onto and guide him through the attack.

“I’m just going to go and see who it is.” Harry gave his knee a small squeeze as he used it to prop himself up to his feet.

Ginny ran her hand down his arm and threaded their fingers together, holding his hand, before leaning over and resting her head against his shoulder. Paradoxically, though she was leaning on him, he was the one that took strength from the gesture. It had been so long since he’d had this comfortable camaraderie with someone. Not since Ana, and he realized that he missed it.

“Who is it, Harry?” Ginny called.

“It’s Draco’s neighbour,” came the response and Draco sat up and made his way to the door.

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you safe and sound,” Mrs. Oxborrow proclaimed before throwing her arms around him. Draco froze for a few seconds before bringing his arms up to encompass her in return. He heard the slight shuffling sound of Harry retreating into the living room and giving them some privacy.

“Thank you, Marjorie. Thank you for calling the police,” he whispered into the thin, teased coif of her hair.

“I was so worried about you,” he had to strain to hear her, despite their physical closeness. “I tried to come and see you in the hospital but they told me it was family only.”

“I’m sorry you were worried,” Draco offered feebly. “If I had known you were kind enough to come and see me, I would have kicked up a stink until they let you in.”

Marjorie pulled back and rubbed her eyes as she let out a snuffle. “They really need to modify their policy to include nosy neighbours,” she said with a teary laugh.

“We’re just going to go grab some Chinese for dinner. Are you going to join us, Marjorie?” They turned around to find Harry and Ginny emerging from the living room and Harry was watching Marjorie expectantly.

“Oh, no, but thank you, dear,” she declined. “I have dinner plans with my bridge group this evening.”

“No problem,” Harry agreed easily. “Do you mind passing us our coats, D?”

They shuffled around in the narrow space and Draco pulled out the two coats from the now almost-empty closet. “We’ll just be gone for an hour or so,” Ginny promised as she pulled on her coat, flipping her hair out so that it wasn’t trapped underneath.

“Can you make sure to get extra fortune cookies? They’re Lyra’s favourite,” Draco requested.

“Of course,” Harry agreed and then they made their way over to their truck, waving goodbye to Mrs. Oxborrow.

“Have there been any developments? Have they found those two assholes yet?” she asked, her face clouding over with disgust at the mention of them.

“No progress yet,” Draco shook his head sadly. “I’m not holding my breath for them to find anything. I doubt a gay bashing ranks as a high priority for them.”

“That’s...well, that’s...that’s not right! You boys have just as much right to feel safe as everyone else!”

Draco shrugged, unable to offer her any words of consolation or reassurance. He knew first-hand that the world wasn’t always fair or just. “All we can do is wait and see.”

Marjorie looked around at the stacks of boxes and mostly empty rooms that seemed to echo, despite their small size. “I’ll be sad to see you leave,” she said with a sigh. “It’s been so nice having young people living next door.”

“I’m a little sad to be leaving too, but I think it’s for the best,” Draco smiled sadly. The house was small and creaky and about as far from Malfoy Manor as he could imagine, but it had still come to feel like home over the past seven months or so, and he was definitely going to miss this odd, intrusive, endearing woman. “It’s not like Moose Jaw is that big. We’ll still see each other.”

“I suppose…” Marjorie agreed reluctantly, not sounding at all convinced.

“I give you my word,” Draco took her hands in his and levelled a steady gaze at her, “we won’t just disappear out of your life. In fact, what are you doing on Sunday? You have to come out for dinner with us.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to be a bother—”

“You are not a bother. We’ll come and pick you up on Sunday at 2, okay?”

“Don’t you have to ask your friends? They may not want some strange old lady imposing on their family dinner.”

“I will make sure to ask them, but I know that they’ll say you’re welcome. And Lyra will be thrilled to have you there,” Draco assured her and a tentative smile lit up her face telling him that he’d managed to convince her.

“Well, if you’re sure…” When Draco nodded, she gave a single, decisive nod of her head in return. “Two o’clock on Sunday it is, then.” Looking down at her watch, she startled. “Oh dear, I’ve lost track of the time! I have to be going now. Sandy will be picking me up in no time.”

Draco thanked her for coming and they made their way over to the door. He was just pulling it open when Mrs. Oxborrow startled back, her hand flying up to her heart. “Oh, heavens! You scared me!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” Draco recognized Brent’s voice, but it felt flat, devoid of all of the effervescent happiness that it was normally infused with.

Marjorie’s shrewd gaze scanned Brent’s features, eyes snagging on his cheek, where Draco could see the edges of a mottled black eye peeking out from under the edge of the dark sunglasses he was wearing. Seeing as how it was after 6 and was, therefore, almost entirely dark out, the sunglasses would have been a dead giveaway even if Mrs. Oxborrow hadn’t had the observational skills of Sherlock Holmes.

“No harm, no foul,” she offered kindly. Turning back to Draco, she pulled him into another cautious hug—mindful of his injuries and unaware that Draco had imbibed a miscellany of Healing Potions the moment he’d been discharged from the Muggle hospital—before saying goodbye.

“Two o’clock. Sunday,” Draco called after her. She waved at him over her shoulder, attention focused on the walkway, which was perpetually slippery despite regular applications of salt. “I’ve been trying to call you,” Draco said as he ushered Brent into the house.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I haven’t really felt up to seeing anyone. Are you moving?” Brent asked in surprise, spotting the stack of boxes.

“I am. I didn’t want to stay here with those two on the loose. I don’t want to risk them coming back and anything happening to Lyra.”

“That makes sense.” Brent nodded as he took off the gloves he was wearing and clenched them between his hands.

“Could you take those off, please?” Draco pointed to the dark lenses that were masking Brent’s eyes. “Very subtle, by the way.”

“They let me see the light that’s right before my eyes.” A weak smile graced Brent’s face for a few moments before melting away too soon.

“What on Earth does that mean?” Draco asked as he walked into the living room and settled himself on the sofa. The tell-tale thuds of thick winter boots hitting the floor preceded Brent’s entry into the room.

“You know, from the song. I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can..?” When Draco just stared blankly at him, Brent’s eyebrows drew together in confusion before he hissed in discomfort and raised fingertips to gently feel out the puffy, purple-green area of the bruise. “Sometimes it’s like you grew up on a different planet or something. How have you never heard that song?”

Draco shrugged and patted the couch beside him, motioning him over. Little did Brent know that though Draco had definitely grown up on this planet, he may as well have come from a different world. “How are you feeling?” Draco asked, reaching over to run his index finger over the swollen skin under Brent’s left eye.

“I’m alright, I guess. My injuries were much less severe than yours,” he began, studying Draco closely, “not that you’d be able to tell now. You barely look like you were in a brawl.”

His tone was almost accusing and Draco wondered if he had, perhaps, gone a bit too far with the Healing Potions. He had been so desperate to obliterate the physical reminders of the incident that he had only left bruises that could easily have been two weeks old, a dull olive green colour transitioning into brown. If he could have done so without raising suspicions, he would have removed them completely. “I’ve always been a very fast healer,” he offered feebly.

“Lucky you.” Brent looked around the nearly empty room, shoulders tense. One of his legs twitched repeatedly, but he didn’t appear to notice.

A suspicion started creeping up on Draco as he watched the man he’d been dating for the last three months look anywhere but at him. “Why didn’t you come and see me in the hospital?” he finally asked, working hard to soften the accusation implicit in the question.

Brent rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head, hands stroking through his hair. “I tried, but I just...couldn’t.” His voice cracked and he spat the words as if they tasted bitter in his mouth.

“I’ve been told they were keeping it restricted to family,” Draco offered the olive branch even though he was sure that if Brent had really wanted to, he could have gotten in to see him. Surely the hospital staff would know that they had been involved in the same attack?

“No, it wasn’t that.” Brent dropped his arms and rubbed his hands together in agitation. “They said I could go in and see you, but I just...I couldn’t.”

“I see…” Draco drew back into himself, crossing his arms across his chest. He scraped his mind for something to say, something to soothe Brent’s upset demeanour, but he recognized that there was a not insignificant part of him that wanted to point out that Harry and Ginny were by his side during his hour of need, so shouldn’t his _boyfriend_ have been there?

But he also wasn’t overflowing with indignation that Brent hadn’t been there...and shouldn’t he be?

“It’s not like I didn’t want to be there.” Brent stood up abruptly and began pacing the room, stopping at the large window to push the blinds open and cast a suspicious look up and down the street. “I must have stood there, at the door to your room, for nearly an hour, but I just couldn’t force my hand to reach out and open it. I could see the bruises on your face from there and I just couldn’t get closer. I just couldn’t handle seeing you like that.”

Draco sighed, a headache creeping up on him. Brent stood off to his right, back turned towards him and shoulders hunched. If the situation had been reversed, Draco would have hexed anyone that tried to prevent him from seeing the people that he cared about. Draco already knew well the lengths he would go to, the desperate choices he would make, to help the people who are important to him. But he was also well aware of the tolls those choices could exact on someone.

He pushed himself off the couch and walked silently over to Brent, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, and rested his chin on Brent’s shoulder. They stood there like that for a few moments, and then Brent came apart in his arms, heaving sobs wracking his body and salty drops landing on Draco’s interlocked hands.

He stood there and held Brent while he broke down, whispering reassuring platitudes in soothing tones until Brent’s crying subsided and he wiped his eyes and sniffled. “It’s not like I was oblivious that these kinds of things happen, but I just never thought that it could ever happen to me—not really.”

“I understand,” Draco commiserated, nodding his chin against the firmness of Brent’s trapezius. Brent tilted his head, nuzzling the sides of their heads together, seeking comfort.

“That’s because you’re an amazing human being,” Brent sighed. After a lingering pause, he added, “I’m going to miss you.”

Draco closed his eyes at the words, his suspicions confirmed that Brent was here to end their relationship. “You can’t let those tossers get to you,” he said vehemently, “You can’t let them win.”

Brent huffed out an angry laugh; Draco missed his happy ones. “There are no winners in this, Draco.”

Draco pulled away and grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to face him. Disappointment and anger made him have to fight to modulate the volume of his voice. “So, what? You’re just going to pretend you’re straight? You’re going to run off with your tail between your legs and marry some buxom farm girl and pop out a couple of sprogs?”

Brent shook his head morosely and refused to rise to the bait, refused to let Draco pull him into a shouting match. “I’m gay. I’m not going to climb back into the closet. I know who I am and I’m not ashamed of it.” Brent placed his open palms against Draco’s chest, not pushing him away, but not pulling him in closer either. “And I want to live somewhere that I can be myself _and_ feel safe, and that’s not here anymore.”

Draco looked away. The initial rush of anger was receding and he was a little horrified to realize that buried within it was...relief. Brent was sweet and kind and charming, but deep down Draco had recognized that they weren’t really going to last. Brent didn’t challenge him; he didn’t get Draco’s blood boiling or his heart racing or his mind whirring. Yes, they had satisfying sex, but there wasn’t anything magical about it. Draco wanted the “butterflies”—he wanted butterflies big enough to lift a ship aloft.

“Where are you going to go?” he asked, taking one of Brent’s hands into his own and drawing infinity patterns on the back of it with his thumb.

Brent slipped the fingers of his other hand between the buttons of Draco’s shirt, letting his fingertips brush against the puckered line of one of his scars. “Only you would wear a dress shirt to move. Where are you moving to anyway?”

“I asked first,” Draco volleyed with a wisp of a smile.

“I think I’m going to go back to Winnipeg for a few months and then...I’m not really sure. Tdot, maybe? Though I can’t stand the Maple Leafs. Maybe Vancouver; the Canucks aren’t bad.” Brent’s shoulders lifted minutely in an uncertain shrug.

“Only you would pick a city to live based on the hometown sports team,” Draco scoffed. Though, really, he shouldn’t throw stones since that was basically how he and Lyra ended up in Moose Jaw. Of course, Brent knew nothing about that, still thinking that Draco was employed as an accountant.

“I never really got over my first love: the Jets. My heart broke when they were moved to Atlanta.” Draco chuckled briefly at Brent’s ridiculous proclamation. “So where are you moving to?”

“Andromeda, Harry, and Ginny have offered us a place to stay with them. At least until I can find us another place to stay.” Brent nodded.

“They seemed like good people. Won’t it be a little weird though? Living with your coworkers?” Brent inquired.

Draco considered the question for a moment. He’d definitely had moments of uncertainty about this plan, but the fact that they work together had never actually crossed his mind. He was more concerned about the fact that both Harry and Ginny had featured prominently in his fantasies for the past couple of months.

He didn’t really want to go into all of that with his newly-minted ex-boyfriend though, so he opted for a casual response. “At least we will be able to carpool.”

Brent chuckled briefly at Draco's recycled joke and they stood there awkwardly for a beat before Brent took a deep breath and said, “Well...I should probably go.”

Draco nodded and then found himself pulled into a hug, the hiss of pain in his ear reminding him that Brent didn’t have the benefit of Healing Potions, so he loosened his grip. They held each other for a protracted time before pulling away.

Brent pulled out the gloves from his coat pocket and put them on as they made their way over to the front door. When they got there, Brent turned back toward him and lifted his hands at his sides in an uncertain gesture. This time, it was Draco pulling Brent towards him, one hand working around his neck and fingers dallying in the hairs at his neck. The kiss that Draco planted on him was bittersweet and chaste. Draco kept his eyes open, watching as Brent’s eyelids fluttered shut and his eyelashes brushed against the dappled bruise.

They pulled apart and Draco’s hand slid free. Clearing his throat, he grabbed the zipper of Brent’s coat and pulled it up further to stop the bitter January chill from creeping in. “Well, goodbye, then,” he offered stiffly. He had always been terrible at goodbyes.

Brent grinned at him and for a moment the pain and fear and exhaustion washed away and it was like Draco was looking at the puckish man that he had met 4 months ago. “Pip pip, cheerio!” he joked as he walked away.

“Brits don’t say that, you know!” Draco called after him.

“Sure they don’t. And us Canadians don’t say ‘eh’ either...eh?” came back to him before Brent reached the gate and waved one final time.

Draco had a fond smile on his face as he closed the door. Making his way over to the Chesterfield, he settled down on one side and pulled his feet up onto it, wrapping his arms around his legs and leaning sideways, head against the cushion.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it wasn’t long before the front door crashed open and the sounds of Harry and Ginny bickering playfully drifted over to him on the fresh blast of cold air that accompanied them in. Their familiar voices eased the flare of panic that had shot through him at the sudden burst of sound.

They each came in carrying a plastic bag full of food containers in each hand. Ginny set her load down on the coffee table and kneeled on the other side of it while Harry sat down on the couch beside him. Draco watched as they proceeded to unpack enough food to feed a whole herd of Thestrals.

“We got the extra fortune cookies for Lyra, and we also got two servings of the lemon chicken since we know it’s your favourite. Hey, are you okay?” Ginny stopped her unpacking as she looked up from the mountain of food and took in Draco’s appearance for the first time.

He probably shouldn’t be okay. In the last week, he had been beaten and hospitalized, had to move, and had been dumped. By all rights, he should be swimming in a pool of Firewhisky to drown his sorrows right now. It had been an extremely rough few days, but a steadfast hope was wrapped around him, keeping him afloat and his head above water in an ocean of troubles. Draco unwrapped himself and shifted over on the couch towards the greasy-yet-delicious smelling Chinese food.

“I will be.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

“Are you trying to wash off all the paint on that plate or something, Puff?”

Draco paused in his dishwashing duties and looked sideways at Ginny, who had one hip leaning against the cupboards with the damp dish towel thrown over her shoulder and an amused look on her face.

“Are you ever going to grow up and get over that nickname?” Draco drawled as he returned his attention to the plate, wrapping the dishcloth around his finger and pecking at a stubborn spot of food residue.

“Mmmmm,” Ginny hummed, acting as if she were seriously considering his request. “Probably not. Sorry, Puff.”

Draco rolled his eyes in an exaggerated movement and she chuckled. Truthfully, the pet name coming from her didn’t actually bother him; it gave him a pleasant feeling of fond familiarity and being cared about. Not that he would ever admit that to her.

Finally content with the cleanliness of the plate, he ran it under a piping stream of hot water and washed away the film and bubbles before handing the plate over to Ginny’s waiting hands. When they had first moved into the old farmhouse, he had wondered why they didn’t just invest in a dishwasher, but he had grown to enjoy the routine and companionship of the dishwashing chore that they shared, one person washing while the other dried and tucked them away in their proper places around the kitchen.

“Daddy! Hurry up! We want to watch the movie!” Draco looked over his shoulder to see his daughter standing by the small kitchen island on the far side of the room where the telephone sat, her hands on her hips and an impatient scowl on her face.

“Why don’t you and Teddy run upstairs and get changed into your jammies,” Ginny suggested. “That way you will be more comfortable and if you fall asleep we can just carry you upstairs and drop you into bed.”

Lyra giggled and then spun around, running out of the room and shouting for her cousin. It wasn’t long before the deceptively loud sound of the two of them running up the stairs shook the house, closer to a herd of wild thestrals than two small children.

Draco turned his attention to the next dish and began scrubbing away at it until it was spotless, making idle chit chat with Ginny until Harry interrupted them. “Merlin, what’s taking you two so long?”

Draco threw his head back, eyes cast to the ceiling, as he muttered to himself, “Merlin, help me. I never realized that I would be taking on two adult-sized children when I moved in here.” Harry and Ginny laughed together before he added, “Why don’t you make yourself useful and whip up some popcorn?”

Draco and Ginny finished up the sinkful of dishes right about the time that Harry was finishing up the popcorn, and they all headed into the living room together carrying giant bowls of the buttery kernels. Harry took a seat in the recliner where he promptly kicked up the footrest and leaned back, while Ginny and Draco took up spots on the Chesterfield.

When they emerged once more, Teddy darted straight for the chair and crawled up to lean back against Harry. Lyra stood frozen, watching Teddy longingly between guilty glances over to where Draco was seated on the couch. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can sit wherever you want.”

Lyra looked relieved and then ran over and scrambled up to sit on Harry’s other side as he threw Draco a droll look. At Draco’s scowl, Ginny said, “That just means more popcorn for you.”

As if to reinforce her observation, Draco shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth and crunched on it while Harry watched him, amused.

“Start the movie!” Teddy whined and Ginny picked up the remote for the VCR and pushed play. The room filled with the familiar opening horns and bells of _The Muppet Christmas Carol_.

“Surely you’re both sick of this movie by now!” Draco exclaimed. In the past month, the kids must have watched it at least thirty times.

“NOO!” they cried in unison.

“Rizzo the Rat is my favourite!” Teddy proclaimed.

“I like the little mouse family that lives in the wall,” Lyra said.

It wasn’t long before the two children were entranced by the assortment of puppets and live action actors and Draco begrudgingly settled in and reconciled himself to yet another viewing of the movie. To his horror, he found himself humming along to one of the musical numbers midway through the movie. Even worse, it only came to his attention when Ginny poked him with her toe.

“Don’t even say it,” he threatened and she laughed before tossing a few popcorn kernels in his direction.

“I think these two are done,” Harry said in a low voice as he attempted to get a look at the faces of the two children in his lap.

“I’m still awake,” Teddy mumbled before sinking his hand into the popcorn bowl wedged between him and Lyra and shoving a few kernels into his mouth, eyes never leaving the television screen.

Draco set his half-empty bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and walked over to Harry’s chair. Brushing the thin strands of hair back from her face, he found her eyes closed and her mouth open, a small strand of drool hanging down to Harry’s shirt. “Yup, time for bed.”

Sliding his hands underneath her arms, he lifted her off of Harry, causing her to rouse. “Nooooooooo. I don’t wanna go to bed, daddy. I wanna watch the movie,” Lyra whined as she rubbed her eyes with her fists.

“You can finish it tomorrow. It’s bedtime now.” Draco managed to make it into the hallway before Lyra started wailing and squirming in his arms, demanding she be allowed to go back and watch the end of the movie.

Her wails continued freely all through the brushing of her teeth, her pre-sleep bathroom break, and all the way into the bedroom that was now hers, right next to Teddy’s. Draco held the duvet and sheet aloft as Lyra crawled in and she was still sniffling as he tucked them in tightly around her body. “Do you want me to read you a bedtime story?” he asked as he took a seat on the edge of her bed.

Lyra didn’t answer out loud, but her head gave the tiniest of nods, hands still rubbing at her increasingly swollen, red-rimmed eyes.

“Which book would you like me to read?” Draco asked, working to conceal his tension. He often felt like he had won the lottery with Lyra, who rarely had tantrums like this, but in a way that only made them more difficult to deal with when they did happen because they were so uncommon.

Draco couldn’t make out her mumbled response. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

“Puff,” she said as she smacked her arms down on top of the duvet. Her lower lip was protruding out so far that a phoenix could form a nest on it. She was obviously grudgingly choosing her bedtime story ritual over her little snit, but she wasn’t going to be happy about it.

“Alright.” He pulled out his wand and Accioed what was, quite possibly, his least favourite book. He flipped the book open and began to read, and within a couple of pages, Lyra seemed to forget her displeasure and became engrossed in the story.

“We took a boat like that.” She pointed to the illustration of the small boy riding on the dragon’s tail as it flew between the tall masts of a ship.

“We did,” Draco agreed.

“But that was so long ago,” she added.

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Draco argued.

“You’re wrong, daddy. It was forever ago,” she stated confidently, as if it was perfectly obvious.

He supposed that to a small child the better part of a year probably _did_ feel like it had been forever ago. He took a moment to muse on the past nine months and, although ‘forever’ was a bit hyperbolic, he did have to admit that the time had flown by quickly. There had been the understandable trepidation about picking up and moving around the world, but this place had begun to feel like ‘home’ surprisingly quickly. And a great deal of the thanks for that must be laid at the very doorstep that he now called his own.

“Finish the story, daddy,” Lyra demanded as her mouth pulled wide in a huge yawn.

“We say please,” he corrected and she parroted it back to him. He finished reading the story, but wouldn’t bend when she begged him to read it again. Instead, he lay down beside her and stroked her forehead as he gently sang the matching song to her until she fell asleep.

He manoeuvered his way across the carpeted floor, avoiding the squeaky joints as if it was second nature. He was just pulling the door closed when Ginny and Harry appeared at the top of the stairs, Teddy’s limp arms dangling over Harry’s shoulder and down his back.

“He didn’t last that much longer than Lyra,” Ginny whispered as Harry disappeared into Teddy’s room. Draco watched fondly as the other man carefully settled the small boy onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Nightcap?” she asked.

Draco shook his head. “I should be turning in...and so should you two. We leave bright and early in the morning.”

Ginny looked disappointed for a split-second but then gave him a quick smile. “Will do, coach. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Ginevra,” Draco said before heading to his room while wanting nothing more than to stay.

***

“Ah, Draco, thank you for coming. Close the door behind you, eh?” Sheena pointed her pen at the door before turning her attention back towards the papers on her desk. Draco pushed the door closed with a soft _snick_ and then took a seat in the chair across her desk, which immediately morphed into a wingback chair upholstered in a rich, merlot-coloured velvet material.

“You wanted to speak to me, Sheena?”

“Yes, just give me one more minute to finish up these travel forms.” She turned her attention back to the forms and scratched her signature on the top one before flipping through and doing the same to each piece of paper in the stack. After having finished the last one, she slid the stack into a manila envelope, sealed it shut, wrote the addressee on the front, and dropped it into her outbox, where it vibrated for a few seconds before letting out a high-pitched popping sound and disappearing.

“Who would have thought there would ever be so much paperwork involved in a sports team?” she mused to herself as she cleared off the cluttered desk space in front of her, shunting the various stacks of paperwork off to the side. Leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the desk and interlocked her fingers together and drilled Draco with a concerned look. “How are you feeling?”

Sheena had been very supportive since the attack and had assured Draco that he should take as much time as he needed to heal. She had put the entirety of the team’s health professionals at his disposal, which was who he had to thank for the multitude of health potions that had cut his physical recovery time down by several weeks. “I’m feeling much better, thank you, Sheena.”

Her brows drew down in the middle, seemingly unconvinced by his answer. “It’s only been a couple of weeks. I’m not sure that coming back to work so soon is in your best interest? Our Mind Healer tells me that she hasn’t heard from you.”

Draco didn’t miss the disapproving tone when she made the last observation. Sheena had so far proven to be a wonderful boss and had stood by him during the awkward transition period where Harry had seemed intent on making his job as difficult as possible. He knew that it would have been easier for her if she had just caved to Harry’s demands and had let Draco go, but they had weathered the storm together and Draco was incredibly grateful for her faith in him.

Which is why he tried to suppress his irritation at her in this moment. He knew that she was only trying to be helpful and wanted the best for both him and her team, but he bristled at her presumption that she knew better what was in his best interests than he did. “I assure you I am perfectly capable of fulfilling my duties as Head Coach of this team.” Draco didn’t think he had been entirely successful at suppressing his irritation, judging by the look of surprise and hurt on Sheena’s face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Sheena contemplated him for a moment and then gave him a forgiving smile. “It’s alright. But it’s my job to make sure that the team—the whole team—has what they need to perform at their absolute best.” When Draco nodded, she continued, “Why didn’t you call the Mind Healer, Draco?”

Draco wanted to holler that with all of the horrors that he had experienced in his life, two troglodytic Muggles were insignificant in the grand scope of things. “I have been through far worse,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in the plush chair.

“All the more reason for you to speak with her,” Sheena shot back as she crossed her arms over her belly.

“Sheena, I don’t—”

“Five sessions,” she said, cutting him off. “Five sessions and that’s all you have to do unless you want to have more, of course.”

“You can’t make me do this, you know?” Draco looked away, watching the team through the large window as they did their warm-up routine on the pitch.

Sheena sighed. “You’re right. I can’t force you to see a Mind Healer. Your employment is not contingent on this request I have of you.” She stood up and moved over to the rolling cart bar in the corner of her office and began pouring them both a drink. “I really would request you at least consider it though.”

Draco accepted the glass tumbler with three fingers of Lightningwhisky, a popular Canadian alternative to the staple Firewhisky of the British wizarding world. He swirled the liquid around the tumbler, letting it wash over the surface of the stone that just barely rose above the level of the liquid, letting the stone do its work of cooling the beverage.

He took a small sip of the beverage, the initial taste sending a zap of current around his mouth and down his throat, which slowly mellowed into an almost ticklish, tingling sensation. The experience was not entirely dissimilar to the Pop Rocks candy that he had taken from Lyra’s Halloween haul.

“Why is this so important to you?” Draco asked as Sheena reclaimed her seat and settled back in the chair, which shifted into something of a recliner according to her current desires.

Sheena took a bracing swallow of her drink before turning kind eyes to Draco. “Have I ever told you that I was engaged to be married once?”

Draco felt his mouth drop open in surprise for a moment before he managed to recover himself. “No, you’ve never mentioned it.” In all of the months that he had known her, Sheena had never so much as mentioned ever having a paramour nor had she seemed to have the desire for one. They had been to several networking events together and he had watched more than one wealthy, elderly wizard flirt ostentatiously with her only to be met with a friendly, feigned obtuseness.

“Mmm,” Sheena nodded and continued, “Alastair Beach, though everyone always called him Sandy. He used to love to say that, ‘there’s nothing more agreeable than a Sandy Beach.’” At Draco’s polite smile, she rolled her eyes. “He had a terrible sense of humour, but we had been best friends ever since we were children and I found his atrociously bad jokes charming.”

“What happened to him?” Draco took another sip of his drink and listened intently.

“He died.” Her voice broke as she spoke and she cleared her throat and took another drink before looking away and discreetly patting moisture away from her eyes.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry,” Draco offered helplessly.

Sheena shook her head and smiled kindly at him. “Thank you. He was my best friend in all the world and I still miss him every day. He was such a good friend that when my family was insisting on marrying me off to some well-respected wizard family, he agreed to take me as his wife instead.”

“Oh,” was all Draco could think to say. He was burning with questions about what the nature of their relationship had been, but a sense of propriety restrained him.

Sheena laughed. “I know it doesn’t sound very romantic, but my generation didn’t have this fixation on romance like your generation does. Back then, a woman being single into her thirties was just ‘not done’ and neither was openly flaunting your attraction to people of the same sex, so a marriage between the two of us seemed like an ideal solution for us both.”

“So Sandy was...gay?” Draco asked tentatively.

A huge grin broke out across Sheena’s face before she spoke, “As the day was long! Gay as a maypole, that man was. We discussed it and it was perfect, really. He would get my pushy family off my back about finding a good wizard to take care of me, and I would help dampen the suspicious whispers that had started to go around town about his proclivities.”

“Well that’s good,” Draco offered. He was glad that society had, for the most part, moved beyond such antiquated positions.

“It was a poor solution for a shitty problem, is what it was,” she stated bluntly and Draco couldn’t have put it better himself. “It’s not as if we didn’t love each other, mind you. We weren’t strangers or anything. We’d been running around and wreaking havoc together since we were in diapers. There was plenty of love there, it was just always a platonic love, not a romantic one.”

Draco thought about what she’d said for a moment as he took another small sip of the Lightningwhisky, setting off a fresh torrent of tingles down his throat. “There are worse things to base a marriage on,” he said. Personally, he couldn’t imagine marrying someone without feeling that physical pull towards them, but as she’d said, he was of a different generation than she was.

“There is, and it would have been enough for me. I never understood why everyone else seemed so obsessed with romance and sex. I’ve always been of the mind that it’s just as fulfilling to take care of your own needs in that department. Why ask someone else to go searching for treasure when I have the map in my possession?”

Draco had unfortunately just taken another drink of the whisky when he was caught off guard by her candid statement and a mist of the alcohol shot out of his mouth, followed by a coughing fit that lasted the greater part of a minute. Sheena chuckled and watched him, amused, the whole time.

“Don’t sit there and act the naive virgin. We’re all adults here,” she scoffed, still looking amused at his reaction.

“I’m British! You’re just lucky I didn’t spontaneously combust,” he joked. He could feel the telltale heat in his ears that he knew meant they were quite red.

“Well, you’re safe because I should probably steer clear of that topic anyway or you’ll write me up on sexual harassment charges. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” she said, voice sincere.

“It’s fine. I didn’t take offence to it, you just took me off guard. That’s not to say that I want to continue talking about it though!” he added quickly. “So what ended up happening between you two?”

“It’s that age-old story: Girl meets boy, boy meets boy, everything blows up.” Sheena looked off in the distance as she recalled the long-past memories. “A few months before the wedding, Sandy met a young wizard when he went to New York for a course on spell creation, and they fell in love.”

Pulling herself back from her ruminations, she took note of Draco’s look of concern and nodded. “It was far from ideal considering we were meant to be married in just a few months. I’m not proud of how I handled it,” she stated.

Draco indicated for her to continue and she took a fortifying breath. “He Floo-called me and rather than being a good friend and congratulating him, I was more concerned with what it would mean to me.”

“That’s a perfectly normal response,” Draco consoled her.

“I suppose it was, but I could have been more supportive. Rather than being happy for him, I asked how he could possibly be in love so quickly. They’d only known each other for a few weeks.”

“Again, I don’t think that’s an unreasonable response,” Draco said. He’d never been one to put stock in the idea of love at first sight; he believed that love was something that grew over time.

“Reason and logic are often in opposition to the whims of the heart.” She capped off her wise words with a deep pull on her drink. Withdrawing her wand, she summoned the bottle over and poured herself a refill before offering it to Draco.

“No, thanks. I want to be fresh and alert for the practice. The team backslid a bit over the holidays and we don’t have much time to get back into shape before our next match-up with the Haileybury Hammers.”

Sheena sent the bottle back to the bar cart before settling back in her chair once more. “Now where was I?”

“Sandy had just Floo-called you telling you he’d fallen for a wizard in New York,” Draco supplied.

“Oh, yes. Well, I wanted to know what his plans were and he admitted he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I asked if he’d shared with this other wizard that he was currently engaged, and he confirmed he hadn’t told him about our agreement yet. I was upset. I told him that he’d made a promise to me and the honourable thing for him to do would be to follow through with it.”

Draco stayed quiet while Sheena wrestled with the memories. It was obvious that she felt deep regret about this conversation, even to this day, looking anywhere but at Draco. Eventually, she continued, “Sandy took his lover—Lloyd was his name—out for dinner that night and confessed that he hadn’t been entirely honest. He told Lloyd all about our arrangement and that he didn’t know what to do because he loved us both.”

“How did Lloyd take the news?”

“He was upset. He told Sandy that he didn’t want to come second to the person who was supposed to put him first, always. He ran out of the restaurant and Sandy chased after him.”

“And then what happened?” Draco was riveted by the story, desperate to know whether the two lovers reconnected.

“Sandy called out to him and Lloyd stopped as he was crossing the street and turned around when he heard Sandy calling his name—and was hit by a car.”

“Fuck!” Draco gasped as he sucked in a shocked breath. He could only imagine how horrific it would be to witness someone you loved be struck right in front of you.

“Sandy was never the same after that,” Sheena stated matter-of-factly. “He came back, but he was like a shell of his old self. It was as if the concept of happiness had been stripped from him. He tried to hide it, but it was glaringly obvious to me, someone who’d known him for nearly his entire life, that he was just going through the motions.”

“That must have been horrible. For both of you,” Draco offered pointlessly; it hardly needed to be said, but he felt helpless to come up with any other condolence he could offer. He wished now that he had taken her up on her offer of a refill on the whisky as he took the last mouthful from his glass.

“I failed him again. I knew it wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what to say to help him. We didn’t have Mind Healers back then like we do now. The attitude then was that you just had to find a way to cope, to push through it. To grit your teeth. I knew that he was hurting, that his grief was eating him up from the inside, but I thought that he just needed to work his way through it and that he would be fine.”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t fine?” Draco wasn’t sure he really wanted to know what had happened to him.

“He took his own life, a week before our wedding.” Sheena bit out the words in a flat tone, but her eyes glistened with tears and Draco discreetly pushed the Kleenex box on her desk closer to her. She didn’t acknowledge the gesture, but brusquely plucked three of the tissues and carefully dabbed at her lower lids, wicking away the moisture. “He never left a note or anything explaining why he did it, but I knew.”

“And that’s why you want me to talk to the Mind Healer, right? You’re afraid that there’s something...festering away inside me? That maybe if Sandy had talked to a Mind Healer, that he wouldn’t have done what he did?”

Sheena gazed at him and she shook her head slightly. “No, that’s not—well, yes, I do think that might have helped him, but that’s not all of it. I don’t think you’re suicidal or anything, Draco. I know that you would never leave Lyra alone like that, and though I don’t know everything about your past, I did enough research to know that you most certainly have a few boggarts lurking around your mind.”

Draco let out a quiet snort at the understatement and Sheena watched him fondly. “I am only adamant about giving therapy a chance because I know how helpful it was for me.” When Draco’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, Sheena rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you listen to that story? I carried around a massive burden of guilt for years that I could have done more to help my friend—that I could have saved him. It caused me to make some...questionable decisions,” at Draco’s intrigued look, she held her hands up, holding him off, “which I am not going to get into right now. But I just want you to know that what’s good for the goose may be good for the gander. I would never push you to consider this if I didn’t _genuinely_ think it could be helpful for you.”

Draco slowly rotated the tumbler, letting the stone bang against one side and then slide back to the other. Sheena took another drink and seemed content to let him chew over her words, the silence stretching out between them, the only sounds in the room the clunk of the whisky stones, the sloshing of liquid, and the faint voices of their players coming through the large plate-glass window.

“One session,” Draco offered reluctantly. He was sure he would regret this moment later when it actually came time to pry open his mind, but her sincerity had softened him and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

“Four,” she countered.

"Two." They eyed each other, attempting to determine which party would be the first to give way. The silence stretched between them stubbornly, until Draco finally quirked an eyebrow and received a raised one in return.

"Three," they said in unison. Sheena nodded decisively, as if mentally checking something off an item on her to-do list.

“Good, that’s settled.” Her tone was brusque as she leaned forward and her chair morphed back into its more business-like normal presentation. Draco moved to stand but was halted when she continued, “One more thing before you go.”

Draco settled back down, placing the whisky glass on the edge of her desk. “I understand you’ve moved in with Harry and Ginny,” she stated. Draco tried to read her face, but the woman wasn’t letting any of her cards show.

“Yyyeeesss….?” Draco wasn’t sure where this was going and he realized that he had never really stopped to consider whether he should run it by Sheena before accepting Harry & Ginny & Andromeda’s offer. With a lurch, he realized that it could definitely be construed as inappropriate and unprofessional. He frantically scraped his memory to try and recall whether he ever read anything about inappropriate relationships between the coaching staff and players, but he drew a blank.

“Relax, you’re not in trouble,” Sheena reassured him and Draco felt the tension start to ease out of his shoulders. “I just want to make sure that there isn’t going to be any conflict of interest there. I don’t want to hear any complaints that you’re giving Ginny or Harry preferential treatment. Am I understood?”

“Crystal clear, Sheena.” Draco squirmed a bit under Sheena’s shrewd gaze before she eventually let him off the hook.

“Good. I don’t care what happens behind closed doors between consenting adults, just as long as it doesn’t spill over onto my pitch.” Draco opened his mouth to object that she had the wrong idea, but before he could say anything, she continued, “You have a practice you should be coaching.”

Draco knew a dismissal when he heard one and let himself out. He wasn’t even out of the door before Sheena was elbows deep in paperwork once more.


	17. Chapter 17

Draco wiped the small lenses of the Omnioculars off and then held them up to his eyes and scanned the sky, looking for Harry. Harry had shot up, in a nearly vertical climb towards the morose, grey clouds with the Haileybury Seeker hot on his tail two minutes ago and Draco hadn’t been able to see him since. The raging blizzard had reduced the visibility within the Quidditch pitch to about twenty metres unless you had come prepared.

Sighing, Draco returned his attention to the main playing area. The match had been going on for nearly six hours now, and the weariness from the inclement weather was starting to become apparent. The blizzard rolled in during the second hour of play and had dumped a solid four centimetres of snow on them. He was really proud of how determined his team was playing, but with the visibility so drastically reduced, the plays had, unsurprisingly, slowed down considerably.

As he watched, Ginny passed the Quaffle to Melissa and he watched as it slipped out of her hands and dropped into the waiting hands of the Hammers Chaser that swooped below her and darted off in the opposite direction towards their team’s goalposts. Fortunately, David veered to protect the left hoop and scooped the ball out of the air just as it was about to go through the hoop.

Draco’s eyes instinctually moved to the scoreboard, the numbers glowing in mid-air just below the announcer’s box. The two teams had been neck-and-neck for much of the game, but the Haileybury team had eventually managed to eke out a small lead, and they were now sitting at 280 to 250.

Looking around the pitch at the stands, the enthusiasm of the crowd seemed to have dropped proportionally to the temperature. Clusters of people were making conversation amongst each other, only sparing an occasional glance at the players. It was obvious which witches and wizards were less than proficient at Heating Charms, as their bodies seemed to vibrate and they frequently cupped their hands around their mouth and blew into them, trying to warm up their icy fingers.

Turning his attention back to the game, Draco took mental notes of areas of weakness that the team still needed to focus on. Jared had a tendency to zero in on one player and send the Bludger at them despite there being more advantageous targets. Melissa still had a tendency to get frazzled when she made a mistake and would psych herself out of more potential goals; he watched as she made a shot on goal that went wide and she smacked her fist against her head in frustration. Melissa was a highly talented Chaser, but as the youngest person on the team, Draco got the impression that she always felt like she had to prove herself.

Ginny had regained possession of the Quaffle and was racing toward the far side of the pitch. Jackson was hovering in the air, right in Ginny’s path, and Draco held is breath, waiting to see whether the new move they’d been practicing would work. Reaching up, he flipped the switch over the lens of the right lens and it slowed down so that it was moving at 1/10th the speed. As he watched, Ginny acted as if she’d only just noticed Jackson, pulling back slightly and letting the two pursuing Chasers catch up a fraction, and then she did a quick nose dive and flew under Jackson’s broom.

When she pulled up quickly, there was a flash of time where they just brushed against each other before Ginny shot up into the air hunched over her broom, arm curved inwards. Blink and you would have missed it as Jackson took possession of the Quaffle and then dropped as if getting out of dodge as the other two Chasers went barreling past only inches from where he had just been. The manoeuver worked perfectly, and Draco returned the lens to full speed as he watched Jackson fly off towards the Hammers’ goalposts, the other team still focused on Ginny’s decoy. Feinting to one side, Jackson hauled back and sent the Quaffle through the middle hoop and there was a moment’s delay before the announcers seemed to notice their subterfuge and the crowd cheered. Only 20 points difference now.

The Hammers had just regained possession of the Quaffle when Harry reappeared, shooting through the clouds and leaving a trail of wispy condensation behind him. Seconds later, the purple and green uniform of the Haileybury Seeker broke through the clouds as well in hot pursuit of Harry. Draco pressed and held a small button on the Omnioculars and they zoomed in, magnifying the two figures.

Harry was reaching forward, the Snitch just out of reach, when the other Seeker reached down and yanked on the bristles of Harry’s broom. Draco watched as Harry leaned forward and put on a burst of speed, yanking the bristles away from the other Seeker. Harry overestimated his speed and Draco wasn’t sure which of them wore the greater look of shock as the Golden Snitch smacked into Harry's neck, just below his Adam's apple, and then dropped down under the collar of Harry's shirt.

An excited burst of laughter escaped Draco as he watched Harry clap one hand against his stomach, trapping the errant ball before it could escape. There was a brief flash of exposed skin as Harry reached up under his shirt with his other hand and then triumphantly pulled out the Snitch. The other Seeker threw his hands in the air and mouthed something which looked like, “Oh, come on!”, but Draco couldn’t be sure from this distance.

The next moment, the pitch erupted in cheers as the spectators realized what had happened. Fireworks erupted from a scattering of wands around the pitch as the two bedraggled teams flew past each other in two opposing lines in the middle of the pitch and shook hands.

They’d won. They’d _finally_ won!

Draco beamed as the team landed not far from him, dropped their brooms in the fluffy piles of snow, and ran towards him before gathering him up in a massive team hug.

“We did it!” Melissa shouted as she bounced up and down.

“I think I might have frozen my balls off about three hours ago, but it was totally worth it!” Jared cried, laughing.

“Jared can’t procreate? Now we have two reasons to celebrate!” Patricia joked, before screaming as Jared dumped a handful of snow onto her head. Not willing to accept that lying down, Patricia tackled Jared to the ground and started shovelling handfuls of snow up the bottom of his uniform top.

“Fuck, that’s cold! Uncle! Uncle!” he cried. Patricia laughed and then stood up, reaching down a hand to help Jared up off of the ground. He started shaking out his shirt as soon as he was standing, causing loose chunks of condensed snow to fall out of it.

The rest of the team members were going around hugging each other in celebration, their long losing streak finally broken. Before Draco knew what was happening, he found himself with an armful of Ginny, as she pecked him on the cheek before throwing her arms around his neck. Then one arm disappeared and Harry was drawn close, their three heads close, their warm breath fogging the scant distance of air between them.

“Are you going to tell them that it was sheer dumb luck that the Snitch flew up your sleeve,” Draco chuckled under his breath.

“What?!” Ginny recoiled back, her mouth dropped open in a look of shock.

“Of course I’ll tell them,” Harry laughed. “That was a perfectly executed Plumpton Pass! They will have to issue a new Quidditch Through the Ages edition just to include that moment.”

Ginny laughed and pulled Harry towards her, saying “My hero!” before placing a huge kiss on his lips. Draco thought that her eyes practically sparkled with mirth, brighter than the most exquisitely wrought crystal.

"That was just as intentional as the original Plumpton's catch was," Draco scoffed. In 1921, Roderick Plumpton had experienced a moment of dumb luck when the Snitch had flown up his sleeve, ending the game. He had spent the rest of his life claiming it had been intentional. As far as Draco was concerned, the only thing that he thought was intentional was the horseshoe he must have had up his arse.

"Come on, D, have a little faith," Harry said, laughing. Draco suddenly became very aware that the three of them were still standing very close, arms wrapped around each other. Harry's words had been practically whispered into his ear. He couldn’t decide whether it was the proximity or the casual way Harry had called him “D” that had sent goosebumps up over his skin.

“I may believe you, but thousands wouldn’t,” he drawled. Harry and Ginny both laughed and pulled Draco close once more into another tight embrace.

A sharp whistle cut through the air and they all turned toward Jared, who was just lowering his hand from his mouth, his thumb and middle finger held together. “You know what this means right?” Jared watched them all expectantly as if they should all know what this meant.

Patricia tossed her hands in the air. “You are so annoying sometimes! What? What does this mean?”

“Nobody is allowed to change their underwear!” He held up his hand, rotating it around to point at each member of the team in accusation as he spoke.

“What the hell are you talking about, man?” Jackson asked, visibly working to suppress laughter at Jared’s ridiculous pronouncement.

“When you’re on a winning streak, you can’t change your underwear or else it will end. Everybody knows that. Duh!” Jared shook his head as if he were appalled by their lack of common sense.

“That’s ridiculous!” Melissa laughed.

“Actually...that does sound familiar…” Everyone shot surprised looks at Patricia’s words. She was usually the first to call Jared on his baloney, so hearing her lend credence to his asinine demand was the last thing they all would have expected, even Jared himself. “What? I follow a few No-Maj sports,” she shrugged as she defended herself.

“Well, that settles it!” Jared beamed triumphantly.

“I’d hardly say that this is settled,” Harry protested. Draco studied him curiously; his cheeks seemed to be turning red, and though it could easily be attributed to the cold weather, Draco was pretty sure they weren’t that red a few minutes ago.

“Works for me as long as we’re still allowed to use _Tergeo_.” Ginny smirked and Harry threw her a dirty look. Nobody else seemed to notice the odd moment, but Draco’s eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

“Even if this is some strange No-Maj tradition, it’s hardly as if we’re on a ‘streak’.” He accented the last word with quotation marks using his fingers. “We’ve only won one game, guys. That isn’t a streak.”

“I mean...technically we are on a streak. Just the very beginning of it,” Melissa said tentatively, apparently beginning to have doubts about the ridiculousness of Jared’s idea.

“Here’s the thing guys: do we really want to risk it? What if this _is_ the beginning of a winning streak for us? Don’t we want to do everything within our power to win the next match?” The teammates exchanged nervous glances with one another, no one willing to be remembered as the naysayer in the event that they lost the next match. When nobody said anything, a pleased expression took over Jared’s face. “So we’re in agreement? Nobody is going to change their underwear until our winning streak ends?”

“But we can still take them off to shower and stuff, right? And we can _Tergeo_ them before putting them back on?” David asked, wanting to clarify what the underwear rules were.

“Of course,” Jared quickly agreed. “So nobody’s going to change their gitch, yeah?”

There was a chorus of reluctant agreement. Harry sighed and looked down at the ground before nodding his head. Ginny leaned in and whispered something into his ear so quietly that nobody else could hear, even Draco who was still standing quite close to the couple. A sheepish grin crossed Harry’s face and he and Ginny exchanged a loaded look before he leaned in and kissed her. Draco caught himself staring and forced himself to look away, taking a small step away from them.

“What are we still doing out here freezing our arses off?” Draco asked rhetorically. “Let’s get changed and I’ll take you all out for celebratory drinks!”

Another round of cheers broke out as they all turned and headed for their change room.

***

“So what are your plans for this weekend?” Andromeda asked as she flicked her wand and the fitted sheet folded itself. Of all of the reasons to love being a wizard, Harry thought that being able to neatly fold the impossible puzzle that was those sheets with nothing but a swish of a wand may be one of the best reasons.

“What do you mean? What’s this weekend?” Harry levitated the shirt that he had just folded over onto the pile that was bound for Teddy’s room.

Andromeda clucked her tongue and sighed. “Valentine’s Day? Ring a bell?”

“Oh, that.” Harry shrugged and picked up a pair of black briefs from the massive pile of freshly laundered clothes. With six people in the house, there was always a mudslide of laundry that threatened to bury them if they didn’t stay on top of it. “We don’t have any special plans. We were just thinking it would be nice to stay home.”

“Are you sure?” Andromeda gave him a skeptical look. “You know that I would be more than happy to watch the kids for the night.”

“You always say that—” Harry cut off as an idea dawned on him. “Actually...an idea just came to me! So you’re free on Saturday?”

“Of course, dear. You know I love to watch little Teddy.” Andromeda smiled kindly at him and began working on folding the mountain of towels.

“Great! I’ll just take these upstairs.” Harry stacked the pile of Lyra’s clothing on top of Teddy’s and balanced the teetering load between his hands, craning his neck to see around the cumbersome pile of clothes as he made his way up the stairs from the basement and into the kitchen before heading up to the second floor. He dropped each child’s clothing into the appropriate room and then knocked on Draco’s door, pushing it open when Draco called out permission to enter.

He found Draco sitting cross-legged on his bed with an assortment of paperwork scattered around him. Harry crossed the room and sat down on the bed in front of Draco, one of the papers crinkling under his butt as he sat.

Draco lifted one eyebrow at him in a look that would have driven Harry mental when they were back in Hogwarts, but now he had to admit he found rather charming. Truth be told, he found quite a lot of things about Draco charming nowadays, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that insight.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me review performance statistics?” Draco asked in that familiar drawl of his. Harry mentally added that drawl to his list of charming Draco things.

“Can you blame me?” The words came out before Harry had a chance to stop them and Draco’s eyes darted up to his and then shot back down to the paper in his lap. Draco stared intently at the jumble of numbers and graphs on the page and Harry watched as Draco’s ears started to flush. The sight was so enjoyable that he found it hard to regret the subconscious slip of his tongue.

Rallying himself, Draco replied in a cool, crisp tone, “No, I can’t. It’s a miracle I’m able to tear myself away from my mirror every morning. Now, what do you want?”

Harry grinned at the blonde. He was tempted to sit here and continue teasing him, but he was too excited about his idea. “I just had an idea. I—”

Before he could continue his thought, Draco cut across him, “The first one was bound to be upsetting, but they’ll get easier now that you’ve broken the seal.” Draco cast a glance up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Hardy har har.” Harry rolled his eyes and brushed off Draco’s gibe. “Anyway, as I was saying, I was just downstairs folding laundry with Andromeda and she was asking what Ginny and I were planning for Valentine’s Day this weekend.” Harry watched as Draco shifted on the bed and seemed to stare even more intently at the paper in his hands, circling something with three rotations of the pen, as if he was trying to puncture through the paper.

“It’s a silly Muggle holiday if you ask me,” Draco stated flatly as he dug through the assortment of papers until he found the statistical analysis of the shots on goal. Though improved, David was still showing a bias towards defending the left goalpost; the right and middle had a 37% and 23% higher ratio of goals:shots on goal than the left one. They’d have to work on that. Maybe use a repelling spell that would force him away from the area after a certain amount of time during practices, something that would help break him of the habit.

“Hello? Draco? Earth to Draco?” Draco was pulled out of his Quidditch planning when Harry snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Was I boring you?”

Harry’s question was voiced in a light, teasing tone which Draco returned while continuing to focus on his papers. “It’s the duty of the speaker to capture his audience’s attention.”

As Draco watched, the papers slipped out of his grasp, yanked away by Harry.  “If you would be so kind as to give me a few moments of your precious time, I had a genius idea.”

“My time is very valuable and I highly doubt you’re capable of a ‘genius’ idea, but go on.” Draco leaned back and rested against the headboard, watching Harry intently. Harry just rolled his eyes and grinned at Draco’s barb. Draco was glad that they’d managed to become friends but still were able to poke fun at one another. Poking fun at Harry had been one of Draco’s favourite pastimes since he was eleven and it was a relief that he could continue it now that their insults weren’t poisoned with toxicity.

“So I was downstairs folding laundry with Androme—”

“Yes, you’ve already covered that.”

“Merlin, do you ever shut up?!” Harry grabbed one of the small decorative pillows from the bed and smacked Draco on the head with it. Draco armed himself with a second pillow and retaliated. They exchanged a few blows before Harry managed to wrestle the pillow away and tossed them on the floor at the end of the bed. “Okay, truce. Now, would you just let me finish?”

Draco settled back against the bed and nodded at Harry, making a zipping gesture over his lips.

Harry eyed him suspiciously as a mischievous smile played at his lips. “So I was folding clothes with Andromeda and she was asking what Gin and I have planned for Valentine’s Day. I told her we would probably just stay home and watch a movie or something, but then a thought occurred to me. Andromeda is always so great about babysitting Teddy and Lyra, and I thought it would be great if we did something to thank her.”

“That actually is a great idea,” Draco agreed.

“You don’t have to sound quite so surprised, Draco.”

“Well, Harry, you’re not exactly the most observant person, so you can hardly blame me.” When Harry looked about to disagree, Draco cut him off by asking, “What did you have in mind?”

Harry wanted to argue with Draco, but he did have to admit that he was not the most observant of people at times. Except for in sixth year when he was the only one that noticed that something was going on with Draco, but he had developed enough self-preservation skills by this point to know better than to rehash that.

Harry shook his head and refocused on their conversation. “Well, I was thinking it might be nice to treat her to a spa weekend. Have you been to the Temple Gardens yet?” Without waiting for a response, Harry continued, “It’s really nice. They pipe the mineral water in from a natural hot spring and it’s really relaxing, and they have spa services so we could get her a massage and everything.”

“I know what the spa is, Harry,” Draco scoffed. “This city isn’t that big and there’s not all that much to do; it would take an extraordinary level of inobservation to not have heard of one of the major tourist draws.” As Harry’s face fell in disappointment, Draco tried again, “That sounds like a wonderful gift. I’m sure Andromeda would love it.”

“I was also thinking we could take the kids and stay the night. What do you think? Do you have plans for Saturday?” Harry looked nervous as he asked. Draco hadn’t talked about his breakup with Brent that much since they’d ended their relationship last month and Harry and Ginny had been desperate to know the details, but fortunately had been tactful enough to not come right out and ask. Their tact stopped abruptly at outright asking, however, and they had made sure to offer plenty of conversational open doors for him.

“I do not have any plans, no,” Draco confirmed. “But I also have no desire to play third wheel to the happy couple.”

“Don’t be daft. You wouldn’t be a third wheel. Ginny and I have never been big on celebrating Valentine’s Day, so it’s just another day for us. But I think it could be a lot of fun! I hear they have an indoor/outdoor pool, so you can get out and jump into the snow and then jump back into the warm water real quick. Kind of like a reverse polar bear dip.”

“And this sounds fun to you?” Draco sounded dubious.

“Yeah! And I’m sure the kids would love it.” Harry’s enthusiasm was infectious and Draco found himself actually considering what it would be like to voluntarily freeze his testicles off in the frigid February temperatures of Saskatchewan.

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Draco admitted grudgingly. “Are you sure you’ll be able to get a reservation this close to Valentine’s Day? Maybe they’re booked up.”

“I’ll call and see if they have any spots right now. And I am sure Sheena has some strings that she could pull for us. That woman seems to know everyone in this city and they all seem to owe her a favour. So you’re in?” Harry stood up and waited expectantly for Draco’s answer.

“Count me in, but I must insist that I pay for half of it.” Draco leaned forward and pulled his paperwork toward himself, attention returning to reviewing the team’s performance statistics.

“Well, if you _insist._ ” Draco didn’t need to look up to see the good-natured mocking look on Harry’s face. He dismissed the annoying man with a wave of his hand and reviewed the number of fouls per player per game, the amused look on his face belying the dullness of the long columns of numbers.

***

Draco eyed the thick, clear plastic that draped down and skimmed the top of the pool with a mixture of suspicion and dread. Harry and Ginny and the kids had disappeared through the flimsy barrier about twenty minutes ago and had yet to reappear. Draco had so far managed to postpone actually going outside by claiming that he needed to use the lavatory, but now he was out of excuses and was just dawdling.

“Is everyone else outside?” Draco turned to find that Andromeda had waded up behind him and was squatting in the water, her shoulders just barely breaking the surface and her arms moving in wide circles around herself.

“Yes. They’re all mental.” Draco cast another scowl at the portal to the outside and dipped lower into the warm water as if he could already feel the cold air biting at his skin.

Andromeda chuckled. “That Gryffindor courage must come in handy,” she mused. “But our Slytherin pride demands we mustn’t let them think we’re afraid, so come on.”

Andromeda cut through the water beside him and slipped through the heavy vinyl curtain. Draco tipped his head back and savoured the warm water covering every inch of his skin aside from his face. Taking a deep breath, Draco followed them outside.

Having done so, he immediately regretted having dipped his head under the water, as the sub-zero temperatures hit the warm strands of his hair and a cloud of steam erupted around him as the heat evaporated off of his body.

Draco retreated back to the safety of the water, dipping under until the steaming surface was lapping at his earlobes. He squinted, unable to make out more than amorphous shapes in the thick fog of steam, but as he was contemplating retreating back into the warmth inside, he heard the shrieking laugh of his daughter to the right, around the curve of the pool.

Slipping through the water, he made his way around to the far side of the pool where he could hear shrieking and splashing. Several figures emerged out of the fog and he smiled under the water as he watched Ginny lift Lyra out of the pool and set her down on the patio. Harry did the same for Teddy and then the two children were hustling over to a large pile of snow about a metre away. He watched as they collapsed into the snow and then immediately scrabbled out, shrieking, and back to the edge of the pool where the adults lifted them in again, their heads barely breaking the surface before they started giggling.

“You guys look like you’re having fun,” Draco lifted just far enough out of the water to speak before dipping down again.

“Draco! We were starting to think you’d never come out here,” Ginny greeted him.

“Hi, daddy! Did you see me jump in the snow?” Lyra paddled over to him and threw her arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

“I did! You’re freezing!” he joked. Her body was actually quite warm, having heated up quickly in the steaming waters.

“No, I’m not! I’m warm!” Lyra giggled and slapped her hand against the back of his shoulder. She squirmed and he let her go so she could swim over to Teddy.

“It’s not actually so bad out here,” Andromeda commented as she leaned back against the edge of the pool. “It’s quite invigorating.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to try a snow dive with us?” Harry asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I gave an inch. Don’t take a mile, dear,” Andromeda replied drolly.

Harry laughed and turned to Draco. “What about you?”

Draco didn’t answer, partially because it seemed like a stupid question, and partially because that would require lifting his mouth out of the water. He settled on a quick shake of the head, the motion causing an odd sensation on his scalp as his frozen hair shifted stiffly. He was beginning to regret that he’d started to grow his hair out again.

“Are you ready?” Harry turned to Ginny and they stared intensely at each other as smiles bloomed on their faces.

“Go!” Ginny yelled and they both jumped up and pivoted, sitting on the edge of the pool before pushing up to their feet. Their bodies steamed as they hustled over to the pile of snow and reached down to grab huge handfuls. They smacked the snow against their torsos while their feet continually moved as if dancing a jig. After about twenty seconds and quite a few stifled curses, they hurried back over to the pool and dropped back in, completely submerging themselves underwater for a few seconds before resurfacing while sputtering.

“Merlin’s balls! That’s cold!” Ginny’s shout was met with tittering giggles from the two children and a disapproving cluck from Andromeda. “Sorry Andy,” she apologized sheepishly before turning to the children, “Those are very rude words, do you understand?”

Lyra and Teddy nodded on cue, but judging by the devilish grins on their face, that wasn’t the last they’d hear of that colourful phrase.

They stayed outside in the dichotomous temperatures for a long while. The children made several more shrieking trips into the snow followed by quick retreats back to the warm water. After much cajoling and too many taunts to bear, Draco had eventually agreed to attempt a trip himself and had just leapt back into the pool, teeth chattering. Breaking the surface, an icy helmet formed as his hair, freshly wet, solidified once more.

“Well, I think that’s enough for me,” Andromeda moved off of the small bench circling around the edge of the pool underwater. “I’m going to head up to my room and order an ice cream sundae from room service. I don’t suppose there’s anybody that would like to join me?” she asked with a clever smirk.

Not surprisingly, both children lost interest in splashing each other and started jumping up and down yelling, “Me! Me!”

“Andy, this is supposed to be your vacation. We can watch the kids,” Harry protested, but Andromeda waved him off.

“I love spending time with these little rascals.” The two children swarmed around her and she placed one hand on each of their shoulders as she began leading them toward the portal to the inside pool. “You three enjoy yourselves.”

Draco took the spot that Andromeda had just vacated, sitting to Ginny’s right, with Harry on her other side. There was a long moment of comfortable silence as they watched Andromeda and their children slip through the flaps and disappear inside. Ginny lifted one freckled arm out of the water and brought it towards Draco’s head, causing him to turn, but not pull away.

“I like your hair like this,” she said, running her fingertips along the slicked back strands. “Well, maybe not quite this...hard.” She smirked at him before laughing and letting her hand drop to his shoulder.

“It looks just like it did back in school, all slicked back like that,” Harry agreed, squinting in Draco’s direction. With all the steam coming off of the water, Harry had had to take off his glasses and had left them sitting on the edge of the pool behind him.

“Hmmm, mixed reviews. Too bad there’s nobody here to break the tie,” Draco joked dryly.

“I never said I didn’t like it,” Harry countered. When Draco shot him a skeptical look, one eyebrow peaked in disbelief, Harry laughed. “You had plenty of worse qualities than your hair.”

Ginny laughed. “So it’s unanimous. The long hair stays.”

“I don’t know when the length of my hair became a matter of a vote,” Draco noted dryly.

“You’re vain enough that I figured you’d want to know that long hair looks sexy on you.” Ginny shrugged. “Don’t you agree, Harry?” She turned to look at him.

“That he’s vain? Sure.”

“No! That he looks sexy with long hair,” Ginny persisted.

“Umm...yes?” Harry agreed uncertainly. He squirmed nervously at the unexpected change of topic and suddenly seemed fascinated with the wrinkled texture of his fingers.

Ginny turned back to Draco and declared, “Unanimously sexy.” Draco watched in his peripheral vision as Ginny’s hand slipped through the water and came to rest on Harry’s leg. Draco had a suspicion that it was higher than was probably appropriate for a public pool, but it was hard to tell with the soft waves of the pool and all of the steam. Draco took a look around and realized that it was just the three of them out here under the starry sky. His mind readily supplied a fantasy of Ginevra reaching out with her other hand towards him that had his cock filling.

“I suppose I will have to cancel my barbershop appointment next week, then,” Draco murmured and Ginny chuckled softly.

“Poor you. It must be so hard for you to be so attractive.” Ginny ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the path of an imaginary tear and an exaggerated pout. “Oh hey, look! A shooting star!”

Ginny’s arm shot up and pointed over Draco’s shoulder, sending him spinning around and gazing up at the sky just in time to see a streak slip down the sky and disappear. “Close your eyes and make a wish,” Ginny instructed excitedly.

Despite his hard-learned respect for Muggles, Draco still thought that Muggle superstitions like this were a silly waste of time. Regardless, he found his eyes sliding closed and a furtive, barely acknowledged wish floated through his mind. Something both simple and infinitely complex. He wanted love. He’d dated several people over the last few years, but nothing had ever become serious. His relationships always felt like they had a clearly stamped expiration date right from the beginning. Perfectly acceptable men and women, but none of them had felt right, like they _fit_. Even Brent, who was everything his mind could think to ask for in a partner, had failed to slip into his heart.

He tried to put on a brave face, to be strong for Lyra, but it was in times like this when he felt like he was a shell of himself. Like one of those hollow chocolate bunnies that would be filling the shelves very soon. From the outside, he appeared perfectly solid, but the lightest of pressure and he would crumble away.

Ginny’s hand came to rest on his shoulder and he hitched in a breath, the lick of heat that crawled across his skin from that small point of contact not even remotely explainable by something as pedestrian as body heat. “What did you wish for?” Ginny asked in a hushed voice.

Draco turned slowly, Ginny’s fingers slipping down onto his back, across his shoulders, and around to the other. Harry had slipped up behind her, wrapping himself around from behind, his chin resting over her other shoulder. They were both watching him intently, with unreadable looks on their faces. The thick steam around them blocked out the rest of the world, leaving only the three of them in that misty, ethereal place.

Draco felt another crack forming in his brittle outer shell as he stared back at them. Not one person in all of these years since he’d lost Anastasia had managed to creep into his heart. And yet, all of a sudden, two had.

“What did you wish for, Draco?” Harry repeated the question in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Draco smiled sadly at them. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true. I think I’m going to head upstairs. Good night.” He didn’t give them a chance to protest before he turned away, a wave of sadness washing over him just as surely as the water did as he slipped out from under Ginevra’s hand and waded away.


	18. Chapter 18

Draco had just stepped out of the shower and was towelling away the excess moisture from his hair when there was a soft knock at his door. He pulled one of the fluffy, white robes that the hotel provided over his shoulders and tied the sash closed at his waist before exiting the bathroom and walking over to the locked door of the hotel room.

Looking through the peephole, Draco stepped back and visibly swallowed. He pulled the robe’s edges more firmly closed and tightened the sash before disengaging the door lock and pulling it open.

Harry and Ginny were standing in the hall with white hotel towels wrapped around them. Harry was carrying a silver ice container with a bottle of champagne resting in ice. Ginny had three champagne flutes tucked between her fingers while she held the towel closed with the other hand.

“We bought this bottle of champagne and we were going to crack it open, but Andromeda is fast asleep with Lyra and Teddy draped over her in our room, so we thought maybe you’d like to join us?” Ginny gestured to the champagne glasses in her hand.

Draco cleared his throat. He definitely wanted to join them, but champagne was good too. “Come in then.” Stepping back, he held the door open and gestured them past him and into his room. “But you can’t have champagne without strawberries. I’ll order some from room service.” Draco closed the door and then dialled up room service and asked for a large plate of strawberries, which they promised him would not be a problem and should be there in approximately twenty minutes.

“Wait a second! How did you manage to get a Jacuzzi in your room?” Harry circled around the large, square Jacuzzi that was big enough for several people. A short, rectangular glass vase filled with vibrant red and blue flowers rested on the white tiles surrounding the fixture.

“I _Confunded_ the check-in clerk,” he deadpanned. Harry’s head shot towards him with a judgemental look on his face. “Oh, relax. I didn’t _Confund_ anyone. I just flirted a little.”

Harry’s face smoothed out and he chuckled. “Oh, right then. Well, good thinking. I should have flirted us into a room upgrade, eh Gin?”

Ginny laughed as she set the flutes down on the tiles and then started turning the taps, running her fingers under the tap until she was satisfied with the temperature. “Your flirting would get us downgraded to a broom closet.”

“I can flirt!” Harry huffed, as he dropped down onto the edge of Draco’s bed facing the Jacuzzi.

Ginny shot him a wry look and snorted. Draco stood uncomfortably to the side, discomfited by the way that the two of them just blew in here and made themselves at home. “Please, by all means, make yourselves comfortable,” he grumbled.

“Thanks, we will.” Ginny blithely ignored him, dropping her towel to reveal the simple, emerald green bathing suit that did wonders for both her trim body and her colouring, her skin sprinkled with freckles. She slipped into the Jacuzzi and the water level rose as she settled back into one of the hollowed out seats. “Plenty of room in here,” she smiled enticingly at them both.

Harry set the champagne down on the ledge and then shed his towel, joining her in the Jacuzzi while Draco watched nervously. He thought back to his wish made less than an hour ago when they’d seen the shooting star. Now, here they were in a very similar situation, but the presence of a bed made it all seem so much more conceivable.

“Come join us, Draco.” Ginny crooked her finger at him enticingly and he looked quickly away, fidgeting with the tie of his robe.

“I’ve just showered actually,” he protested.

Harry shrugged. “So? What’s the problem?”

“And I’ve already taken off my swimming trunks,” Draco added hastily, tightening the knot on his robe once more when both of their eyes skimmed down to the edge of the robe which fell down to just above his knees. He wished the robe was longer; he’d always disliked his knobbly knees.

“Funnily enough, you can actually use bathing suits more than once,” Ginny teased, her lips thinning as she suppressed an amused look.

“ _Accio_ Draco’s swim trunks.” At Harry’s words, Draco’s black swim trunks came flying out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of drips across the carpet, and landed in his outstretched hand. Harry’s casual use of wandless magic never failed to impress him—and turn him on.

Harry wrung them out into the Jacuzzi and then tossed them at Draco, who caught them in one hand. Draco walked over and pulled his wand from the stack of neatly piled clothes on the dresser and waved it at the material until they were dry again, and then slipped them on underneath his bathrobe.

“Room service,” a voice came from the hall after two sharp knocks.

“I’ll just…” Draco gestured to the door before tucking his wand into the drawer of the dresser and walking over to let the room service waiter in. The man wheeled a small cart in which had a large bowl of strawberries alongside a few smaller bowls and parked it next to the Jacuzzi. He didn’t react at all to the situation as he explained that the kitchen had also included some sugar, whipped cream, and melted chocolate for dipping.

“Just be very careful with that bowl of chocolate. It’s very hot,” he cautioned. “Is there anything else that I can get for you?”

“No, thanks. This all looks great.” Harry was already dipping one of the bright red strawberries into the ramekin of chocolate, rotating it around until the entire surface of the fruit was covered. He popped the treat into his mouth and bit down, before dropping his mouth open and sucking in air, mumbling, “Tha’s haw!”

Ginny laughed and rolled her eyes. “He _just_ said that, you goof.”

Draco grabbed his wallet from the pocket of his folded pants and then escorted the waiter to the door. “Thank you very much,” he said as he pulled out a blue five-dollar bill and slipped it to the man.

“Thank you, sir. Enjoy your evening.” Draco narrowed his eyes at the man, wondering if the innuendo that he thought he heard in those three supposedly innocuous words was actually there, or whether it was merely his imagination. The pleasant but disinterested smile on the waiter’s face as he turned away and walked off down the hall made Draco think it was just his own guilty conscience assuming everyone could somehow sense his inner desires.

Draco closed and locked the door and then crossed the room and placed his wallet inside the dresser drawer. He hesitated for a moment and then picked up his wand and aimed a wordless _Muffliato_ around the room, keeping his motions concealed with his back to Ginny and Harry and steadfastly not asking himself why he thought the privacy spell might be needed.

“What are you doing over there?” Ginny asked suspiciously. He carefully set the wand back down so as to not make a sound and then pushed the drawer closed before pivoting around, propping his hands up behind him on the edge of the dresser with his elbows bent.

“Have you never heard that old saying that ‘curiosity killed the kneazle’?” Draco retorted.

“Just get your butt in here already, Draco.” Ginny waved him over as she rolled her eyes. Draco unknotted the robe and tossed it on the end of the bed before stepping carefully into the Jacuzzi and settling himself in the last remaining seat across from Ginny and kitty-corner from Harry.

As Draco let the softly bubbling water swirl around his body, rather than being soothed, he felt on edge, unsure of exactly what the undertones of this moment were. He closed his eyes and settled his head back, trying to quell the cacophony of doubts and desires screeching in his head, to no avail. 

“Are you planning to open that champagne, or is it just for decoration?” As always, Draco took refuge in sarcasm, hoping some alcohol would help soothe his nerves. 

“Oh, yeah.” Harry picked up the bottle and removed the golden foil from around the top and then stared, brows furrowed, at the muselet.

“I take it you’ve never had champagne before?” Draco asked as he smirked at Harry’s stymied look.

“I’ve had champagne before,” he said, looking affronted. “I’ve just never _opened_ champagne before.”

Ginny stifled a giggle as Draco huffed and held out his hand. “Give it here.”

Harry looked like he wanted to protest, but Ginny splashed him lightly, drops of water dotting the lenses of his glasses. Draco took advantage of this distraction to liberate the bottle from his hand and began untwisting the wire cage while Harry and Ginny proceeded to splash each other in a series of escalating retaliations.

“If you two children are done...” Draco said meaningfully as the waves subsided. He aimed the bottle at the other side of the room and held the cork firmly while he twisted the bottle until they could hear the tell-tale pop of the suction releasing. “Hand me one of those flutes.”

Ginny held one of the flutes aloft as he filled it before passing it to Harry. She repeated the process with the other two, keeping one for herself and trading the other with Draco for the champagne bottle, which she set back into the ice bucket behind her. Turning back around, she held her glass aloft. “What should we toast to?”

“Why do we need to toast to anything?” Harry asked, pausing with the glass almost at his lips already.

“It’s bad luck not to make a toast with champagne,” Draco chastised. Holding his glass up, Draco said, “To second chances.”

Harry sat forward and brought his glass close enough to clink with Draco’s and said, “To new friends.”

Ginny brought her glass up to meet theirs. “To love.” They all tapped their glasses together and toasted. Harry and Draco had just taken a sip when Ginny added, “And to fantastic sex!”

The reaction was instantaneous as Harry started coughing and choking on his swallow, whereas Draco’s drink sprayed out past his lips in a fine mist. Ginny laughed, looking entirely too pleased with herself, and then took a large swallow of her own champagne before playfully splashing Draco. “Thanks for the champagne shower, D.”

Draco took another drink from his glass which he was, gratefully, able to actually swallow this time before returning the splash. A spark of challenge lit up Ginny’s umber eyes and she downed the rest of her champagne before setting the flute on the edge of the Jacuzzi and sending a wave of water in Draco’s direction. The deluge of water hit his head and the tile backsplash behind him before sloshing back into the Jacuzzi.

Draco extended his leg and kicked Harry, who was laughing raucously, under the water. He was about to retaliate and return the volley to Ginny when she launched herself at him. Taking hold of his wrists, she lifted them up and pinned them against the backsplash behind him, laughing as she straddled his legs and held him immobile.

The playful atmosphere in the room shifted in an instant and all Draco could think about was how perfect Ginny’s body felt against his. The modest swells of her breasts were so close and his mouth watered with want as he imagined pushing aside the small triangular piece of material and tasting her.

Ginny sucked in a breath and Draco looked up to find her pupils widened with lust, the soft brown irises swallowed by the deep black promises of her pupils. She was so close that he could just make out the sweet scent of strawberries from her shampoo below the sharp salty smell of the mineral water.

To his left, over Ginny’s shoulder, the low sibilant sound of a breath being released through closed teeth sounded and Draco turned his head towards where Harry was sitting. He could just make out the top of Harry’s face, the rest blocked by Ginny’s arm, which was still pinning his to the wall behind him. Ginny shifted on top of him and he closed his eyes, marshalling his shredded self-control. He wanted nothing more than to wrench his wrists free and pull her down further onto his lap, to grind his swelling cock against her.

His attraction was no longer tenable, he decided. This last month had been both a blessing and a curse; for the first time in years, he felt like he was part of a family again, that there were people that cared about him and would stand by him through difficult times. But there was no denying that the tiny seed of attraction that had been slowly growing since he’d renewed his acquaintance with these old schoolmates was now thriving, demanding more and more resources as it broke the surface and began to bloom. It could no longer be denied, and now he needed more.

Ginny had turned her head and was watching Harry over one shoulder. Draco could only see Harry’s eyes and they were unreadable as he watched his lover spread over another man. They sparked with intensity, but without the visual clues from the rest of his expression, Draco couldn’t tell whether what he saw there was anger or intrigue.

The two lovers seemed to be communicating silently and Draco felt a pang of envy at the intimacy that required. The voiceless conversation came to an end and Ginny nodded slightly before leaning back and releasing Draco’s wrists before sliding off his lap and slipping through the pool to sit on Harry’s, her back to his front. One of Harry’s arms came up to wrap around Ginny’s middle, holding her against him, while the other traced fingertips up the inside of her arm where it floated just above the surface of the water.

“I think it’s time we talk,” Ginny said, tilting her head and nuzzling her forehead against the side of Harry’s head.

“Sure.” Draco decided to play ignorant and hopefully avoid blowing up the life that he’d built here. “I have been working on a new play, actually. It’s—”

“I think we should talk about the fact that we all want to fuck each other,” Ginny cut in, effectively halting Draco’s deflection. Draco cleared his throat and looked away, running his hands nervously over his thighs under the water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed to croak out.

“I think you do,” Ginny persisted.

Draco turned to Harry for support. Surely he would speak up and put an end to this madness before they all said something that they couldn’t take back. Harry’s face was once more hidden behind Ginny’s shoulder, his nose resting in the sloping curve where Ginny’s neck met her shoulder. “Help me out here, Harry,” Draco pleaded.

Ginny’s fingers slipped between Harry’s and she pulled his arm around her waist so that both of his arms were wrapped tightly around her, her arm resting atop his. “Go on, Harry. Tell him,” she whispered to Harry.

Harry nuzzled against her, taking comfort in the closeness of her familiar body, while he worked up the courage required for this conversation. Harry filled his lungs with the strawberry scent that would always remind him of Ginny and then looked up at Draco, resting his chin against Ginny’s collarbone. “I think you’re feeling this...attraction, just like we are, Draco.”

A swift look of shock washed over Draco’s face before he regained control of his features. Harry had the sudden urge to laugh at Draco’s outraged look, as if Harry had betrayed him by not putting an end to this particular conversation. Harry felt as if his stomach was filled with the entire room’s worth of flying keys that he had faced during his first-year quest to protect the Philosopher’s Stone from Quirrell, and a part of him was, in fact, tempted to laugh the whole thing off as a joke. But he was tired of wondering, of fantasizing about what it could be—what they could be.

Ginny and he had spoken about the possibility of inviting Draco into their relationship many times, even before it seemed like it could be a valid possibility. Ginny had been supportive of his burgeoning curiosity about what it would be like to be with a man—with Draco, specifically. He’d fretted about telling her for weeks about the dreams that had started to creep into his nightly routine. Dreams of what it would feel like to have another man’s cock spread him open and fuck him. He’d started exploring his own body in ways that he’d never done before, furtive experiments in the privacy of the shower pushing open the door to new sources of pleasure.

Ginny had eventually sat him down and insisted he tell her what was bothering him. Had told him that she knew something was distressing him and that she just wanted to help. Harry had eventually managed to tell her about the dreams, about his new fantasies, and she had listened to it all without judgement. When he’d finally spilled all of the turmoil he’d been experiencing for weeks, she had asked him if his feelings towards her had changed and he had been horrified. In all of his fantasies, he had never once imagined that Ginny wouldn’t be a part of his life—she was his first love and he was still just as in love with her as he ever was. He was racked with guilt that he had made her doubt that for even a minute.

Once he’d assured her that his love for her was just as strong as it had been since he had finally come to his senses and realized what a catch she was back at Hogwarts, they had talked at length about what they would be comfortable with. When she had admitted to him that she had also been having fantasies about Draco, Harry had experienced an initial twang of jealousy, but it was chased by a heady rush of desire and yearning that had left him confused, wondering why he wasn’t _more_ jealous.

When Draco had asked him whether men hitting on Ginny bothered him when they were in Texas, Harry had shifted uncomfortably, convinced that Draco had somehow _known_ what he and Ginny had been discussing over the past few weeks, that both of them found the idea of watching the other with Draco an intense turn-on. He had been relieved when he realized that Draco had only been referring to the flirty cowboy. Harry had watched her and the cowboy dancing and took a survey of his own reaction and discovered there was no excitement at the thought of watching Ginny with that stranger. He didn’t crave watching Ginny have sex with another man. But when he had imagined Draco in place of the stranger...Harry craved.

Since that night, when the three of them had danced into the early morning hours together, Harry and Ginny had integrated their Draco fantasies into their sex life so frequently that in some ways it felt like Draco was already with them, and when Draco had moved in with them, they had both realized that they didn’t just want Draco for one night, or even a string of nights, but rather, they wanted him to be a part of all aspects of their life. Draco and Lyra had slotted so seamlessly into their lives that it felt like they were meant to be there all along.

Harry had become so lost in his revery that he was startled at the sound of water sloshing as Draco stood up and stepped out of the Jacuzzi. “I really don’t know what you two are talking about, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Harry’s arms tightened around Ginny’s midsection in alarm until she patted him reassuringly under the water. His arms slid away as Ginny stood up from his lap and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, not even bothering with a towel as she walked steadily across the room until she was standing behind Draco, who had his back to them where he stood beside the bed. Harry wondered briefly if Draco’s feet had led him subconsciously to where he wanted them to go, even as his conscious mind was denying the situation.

“We’ll go if you want us to, Draco, but is that really what you want?” Ginny reached up and placed her left hand on his right shoulder and turned him slowly around to face her.

“Yes...No...I don’t know.” Draco collapsed onto the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, forehead planted against the heels of his hands. “What do you want from me?” he murmured under his breath.

Ginny took a careful seat beside him on the bed before looking up at Harry and motioning him over. Harry paused for a moment and searched inside himself, looking for any small part of him that didn’t want to do this, that wanted to back away with Ginny and pretend like this never happened. Satisfied with what he found, he stood up and crossed to the bed and took a seat, bookending Draco between Ginny and himself.

Draco was still leaning forward and Ginny and Harry exchanged a loaded look over the curved, muscular expanse of Draco’s shoulders. Ginny cast her eyes down to his hand where it was resting on the bed behind Draco and then up to his back, her intent clear. Harry moved at what felt like a snail’s pace as he tentatively lifted his hand and placed nothing but the pad of his middle finger on the bony protrusion at the base of Draco’s neck before tracing that one nowhere-near-enough touch down the dip of Draco’s spine.

“Stop that!” In the blink of an eye, Draco had ripped away and stood up, whirling around to face them and leaving Harry’s hand hovering in mid-air. Harry slowly lowered his hand into his lap and then looked up to find Draco’s eyes blazing into him. “I thought you’d changed. I thought we were past all of our animosity, but here you are trying to dupe me into putting everything I’ve worked for for years at risk. And for what? A quick fuck? Do you think I’m that foolish?” Draco spat at them as his hands curled into fists at his side.

A surge of indignation rushed through Harry at Draco’s accusation. After all the time they’d spent together, after all the charged moments between them, after all the quiet moments they’d spent at home with their children as a happy (albeit odd) family, how could Draco accuse them of having nefarious intentions towards him! Draco was a part of their family now, and to hear that he could think that low of them cut Harry to the quick.

Fortunately, Ginny spoke up before Harry’s temper got the better of him and he said something uncaring just to hurt Draco back. “If that’s really what you think then we have nothing more to talk about.” Ginny’s voice was carefully modulated, no anger leaching through to inflame an already incendiary conversation. “Is that what you really think, Draco? That Harry and I are trying to sabotage your life here?”

Her calm words doused the fire in Draco’s expression and the tension in his body faded away, his shoulders sinking as he averted his eyes, staring out the window behind them instead. He let out a long breath as he shook his head slightly back and forth. “No, I don’t really think that. I just...I don’t know what you want from me.”

“To begin with, we want you to admit that you’re attracted to us—to both of us.” Ginny glanced over at Harry and smiled reassuringly at him before turning her attention back to Draco.

“So what if I am?” Draco sighed. “It doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to jeopardize not just mine, but also Lyra’s life here for a quick roll in the hay.” Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest, his body language closed off and protective. Harry looked down at the floor and noticed the carpet at Draco’s feet begin to darken as his damp swimming trunks dripped between his legs. Without thinking, Harry sent a wandless drying charm at Draco and Ginny before drying himself.

“Thanks.” Harry looked up at the surprised tone in Draco’s voice and Harry felt his cheeks warming with flush as he shrugged. Taking care of people that he cared about was second nature to him, even something as simple as a drying charm, and apparently Draco now counted as one of those people.

Ginny’s words cut across Harry’s moment of discomfort, “If all you would be interested in is a ‘quick roll in the hay’, then this conversation can end now and Harry and I will leave. We’re not interested in a random fuck with anyone, let alone you.”

Draco’s shoulders sunk lower and he seemed to relax some of the guards that he’d put up with his body language. “Well...what _are_ you interested in, then?”

“We want you entwined with our lives. We want to fall asleep together and wake up together. We want to be there for your happiest moments and your saddest moments.” Ginny shrugged. “We want all of you.”

Draco cleared his throat as his eyes darted around the room, not looking at either of them and he turned fractionally from side to side. “I’m only hearing one of you speaking. Does she speak for you too, Harry?”

Harry didn’t answer right away as he and Ginny exchanged another meaningful look. She didn’t say anything, just smiled softly at him as her eyes filled with love. She held her hand out, palm up, on the bedspread between them. Harry reached out and placed his hand in hers, her thumb stroking soothingly up and down the peaks and valleys of his knuckles. Harry returned her smile, his heart feeling like it would burst with love for her.

Harry pulled his eyes away from Ginny and looked up at Draco, waiting patiently until Draco reluctantly returned his gaze. With his heart shining through his eyes, Harry decided to be honest about what he wanted. “I want all of that. And I want someone else to back me up that Ginny snores.”

His hand dropped to the comforter as Ginny pulled her hand out from under his so that she could smack him on the arm. “I. Do. Not. Snore!” The tense environment of the room lightened at her indignant denial and Harry’s face lit up when Draco smiled and dropped his arms, loosening up.

“Is that supposed to be a selling point? Sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of this craziness.” One corner of Draco’s mouth pulled up in a suggestion of amusement.

Ginny turned to Draco and stated forcefully, “I don’t snore,” to which Harry held up his forgotten hand to shield his mouth from her view and mouthed out, “Yes, she does,” to Draco, who shook his head slightly as the smile took a more firm root.

Draco ran his hand through his hair and down onto his neck, his head bent as he rubbed at the muscles for a few seconds. “So, how is this supposed to work, exactly?” he asked. “How do we...you know...start?”

“Does that mean you aren’t just looking for a ‘wham-bam-thank-you-maam’ then?” Ginny asked.

“I think that was implied,” Draco answered evasively.  
  


Ginny leaned back on the bed, leaning on her hands. “If we’re going to do this, then we all need to be open books about how we’re feeling. We can’t rely on the other people being able to read our minds and know if we’re uncomfortable at any time.”

“That’s true; I am a dab hand at Occlumency—I had to be with that psychotic man taking up residence in the Manor for months. I’d be surprised if you could break through my defences. And I’ve never been strong with Legilimency,” Draco agreed and Ginny sighed.

“I didn’t mean it _literally_ Draco.” She rolled her eyes. “I just meant that we need to be truthful about our feelings and desires or this arrangement isn’t going to work. Can you please sit down? It’s making me uncomfortable with you looming over us like that.”

Ginny patted the spot between her and Harry, indicating Draco should retake his seat, but instead he crossed to the small breakfast nook and pulled the chair over, sitting in front of them. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Ginny sat up straight again, shuffling closer to Harry and turning an expectant look at Draco.

“What?” he asked with mock-innocence.

“Do you want an actual relationship with us, or not?” she asked, her gaze level and with a renewed seriousness. Harry held his breath, waiting to hear what Draco would say. Whether all the discussions that he and Ginny had would prove to have been useful, or whether they were all based on a false hope.

Draco scratched his nose and shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of having to so directly discuss such an unconventional proposal. “I don’t just want it to be a one-time thing, no,” he reluctantly agreed before continuing, “But I also don’t really see how this could possibly work in the long-run.”

“Throuples and other polyamorous relationships are not as rare as you think, and they can be just as successful as a monogamous relationship between only two people,” Ginny assured him.

One of Draco’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How would you know that, Ginevra?”

Ginny and Harry exchanged a look. “Because I’ve been in one before. Remember how I dated Dean Thomas back in school? Well, Dean and Seamus were more than just best friends.”

Draco's mouth dropped open in a look of unguarded surprise. “How is that possible? Something like that would have been all over the school!”

“It’s called _discretion_ , Draco. Seamus’s dad was a Muggle and quite religious. He’d managed to come to terms with the fact of Seamus’s mom being a witch because he convinced himself that divorce would also be a sin, but Seamus didn’t think his dad would handle his son being in a polyamorous relationship with another boy very well.”

“But how did you...where did you…” Draco seemed at a loss for words. “Did you know about this, Harry?”

Harry shrugged before admitting, “Ginny told me a few months ago when we started discussing this stuff. I hadn’t known before that. I just always assumed that she had only dated Dean.”

Ginny laughed softly. “Fortunately for us, Harry and my brother are about as observant as a nearsighted mountain troll. I’m pretty sure that Neville suspected something because I used to spend an awful lot of time in the boys’ dormitory and he used to give us suspicious darting looks sometimes, but he never actually said anything.”

“I can’t believe I never heard anything about this,” Draco marvelled. “I thought the Slytherins knew all the gossip.” He sounded a bit disappointed.

“It’s not as if the Gryffindors and Slytherins were having sleepovers and spilling all their secrets to the other House,” Ginny said. “But, the point is, I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think we could make it work. It won’t always be easy, but I think it will be well worth it.” Ginny reached out and placed her hand on Draco’s bare knee.

“I think we need to set up a few ground rules,” Harry suggested and both Ginny and Draco nodded their heads in agreement.

“That’s a good idea, except for the fact that you’re a notorious rulebreaker, Potter,” Draco smirked.

Harry chuckled. He couldn’t really deny that he’d shown a flagrant disregard for rules at times. “I promise I will treat these rules with the utmost respect. Harry held one hand up and placed his other over his heart. “I solemnly swear that I will be nothing but good.”

Ginny snorted and Harry was glad that the tension from a few minutes ago was gone. This felt surprisingly natural and ordinary, as if they were just sitting around their living room having one of their usual conversations, only this time the conversation happened to be about the three of them having sex.

“Personally I like a little bit of ‘bad’ in the bedroom, so let’s not get carried away with those kinds of promises.” Draco’s look of satisfaction at his own joke made Harry want to throw himself off the bed and wipe that smug look off of his face. With his own lips. Harry shifted as his cock gave a twitch of interest at the thought. Draco’s eyes raked over his body, which Harry suddenly felt was brazenly on display in nothing but his bathing suit, and the smug look grew as he seemed to deduce the impact his words had on Harry.

Ginny chuckled lightly and then leaned over to close the distance between them and place a peck on Harry’s cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time to figure out what all of us like in the bedroom, but for now, let’s decide on some guidelines for this, yeah?” she asked, turning to grin at Draco while she wrapped her arm around Harry’s lower back.

Draco sat back and rested his ankle on his other leg. “Ginevra, you’re the expert at this. What would you suggest for rules?” Draco’s tone was dry, but inside he felt like his intestines were performing a complicated ballet movement. He was having trouble believing that less than an hour ago he was outside in the steamy night air and wishing on a falling star that he could somehow have it all.

He had retreated to his room chiding himself for being so foolish as to hope for even a second that something as silly as a burning chunk of rock falling from space could make his attraction to both Ginny and Harry tenable. Now, here he was, his wish seemingly falling directly into his lap.

 _Hopefully, that won’t be the only thing in my lap soon enough_. The stray thought streaked across his brain and he fought down a giddy laugh.

“Well,” Ginny began, “I think our first rule should be honesty. If any of us are feeling uncomfortable or not liking what is happening, we have to be upfront about it. We can have a safe word, maybe? If any of us uses it, we stop everything and talk it through.”

“What about ‘ _Finite’?_ ” Harry proposed, nodding. Draco and Ginny agreed.

Ginny continued, “And I think, for now at least, we agree to stick to the three of us when it comes to sex.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I can’t ask you two to do that. You have a relationship established already and I don’t have any right to dictate that you two can’t have sex outside of my presence.”

Ginny’s eyebrows drew together in thought and she turned to Harry. “What do you think about that? I know it will be hard for you to keep your hands off me,” she grinned at him, “but do you think you’ll be able to manage it?”

Harry chuckled and elaborately placed his hands in his lap, as if demonstrating his ability to keep his hands to himself. He sat thinking for a few moments while the other two watched him patiently. “I don’t know if it’s necessary, really, but I think it would be safe to start out with it as a guideline. I don’t _think_ I would have a problem with you two being together without me—in fact, I’m quite enjoying picturing the two of you—but until I’m actually _in_ the situation, I am not really sure how I will react.”

“I’m feeling the same way. I have fantasized about the two of you together for years.” At Draco’s scandalized look, she laughed. “Oh come on, Draco! The two of you practically oozed sexual tension back in Hogwarts, and I’ve already told you that I enjoy the sight of two gorgeous blokes having sex.”

“That’s preposterous,” Draco objected. “Potter could barely stand to be in the same room as me for five minutes when we were in school. Tell her I’m right.” Draco turned an imploring look at Harry, but rather than looking dismissive, Harry seemed to be contemplating what Ginny had said.

“Well, if she had claimed that back in April, I would have told her that she was crazy, but now I’m wondering if, deep down, there was something there that I just refused to acknowledge in myself. In my defence, I was kind of preoccupied with people trying to kill me every year, so I had other more important things to worry about than whether my cock perked up whenever you called me ‘Potter’.”

Before he could even think about it, Draco’s eyes dropped down to Harry’s lap, where his clasped hands were still, vexingly, in the way. A soft, warm laugh emerged from Harry and Draco forced his eyes back up, his cheeks flushing from his blatant eagerness.

“Subtle, Draco,” Ginny poked fun at him, earning her a scowl, which only lasted a moment before it melted into amusement.

“And now? Potter?” Draco said the last slowly, emphasizing the explosive pop of the p in Harry’s name. Much to his satisfaction, Harry pulled his clasped palms in closer to his body, covering his crotch more fully. Draco didn’t need the verbal confirmation with Harry’s body language practically screaming the truth.

“Don’t be a prat, Malfoy.” Harry drawled out the a in Draco’s name and Draco had to admit that the effect was reciprocal as his cock jerked in response, as if being called to action.

“See! It’s _oozing_ out of the two of you!” Ginny cried gleefully, her eyes darting back and forth between the two men as if she didn’t want to miss a single moment of their sniping.

“What were we talking about again?” Harry asked as he willed his cock to just calm down for a little while longer.

“Not enough blood to operate both your brain and your dick at the same time, Potter?” Draco asked, pushing this advantage now that he’d discovered it.

Ginny snickered before steering the conversation back to the task at hand. “We can always revisit and adjust this rule later, but I think that, until we’re all a little more comfortable and confident with this relationship, I think it’s best if we keep all sexual activities in the open between the three of us.”

“But…” Draco trailed off, not entirely sure why he felt he should be protesting and unable to put his concerns into words.

“We don’t want you to be our third, Draco. This isn’t Harry and I together with you tacked on as some addendum; this is going to be the three of us together, with all of us as equals.” Draco didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s going to take some adjustment from all of us; Harry and I have been together for years now and we’ve settled into a routine between us, so we’re going to have to work hard to be aware of that and to make sure that we’re not inadvertently excluding you. This rule will help us with that, so it’s as much for our benefit as it is for yours.”

Draco rolled her words around his mind and examined them. He still suspected this rule was more for his benefit, so he wouldn’t feel like an intruder in an already fully functioning relationship, but he decided to give them the benefit of his doubt and take them at their word. “Alright, so total honesty and no one-on-ones. Any other rules?”

“What about you? Do you have any rules you’d like to add?” Ginny asked.

Draco thought for a moment before speaking, “What about the kids? How do we explain this to them?”

“That’s an excellent question. What are you thinking?” Ginny asked.

“I think...I think we should be careful how we handle this. This isn’t exactly a common arrangement, and I think it could be confusing for them,” Draco hedged.

Harry was nodding as he piped in, “Yeah, but kids are also weirdly observant sometimes. I don’t want to outright lie to them and tell them that we’re just friends, only to have them discover there’s more to our relationship later.”

Ginny clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the two men. “How about this: we keep the public displays of affection to a minimum and be as discreet as possible in front of the children—”

“And Andromeda,” Harry cut in. “I don’t even know where to start in explaining this to her.”

“You might be surprised; I think you’ll find she’s more understanding than you expect,” Draco stated. Harry looked dubious so Draco continued, “There was a culture of willful ignorance amongst the pure-blood families, and that wasn’t limited to the regressive views on Muggles, Muggle-borns, and other wizarding world species. Pure-blood families are willing to look the other way and ignore certain ‘dalliances’ as long as the witch or wizard is still willing to perform their sacred duty to continue the bloodline and its purity.”

“Right, because your mother was SUPER understanding about your wife,” Harry pointed out scornfully and Draco felt a conflicting dart of irritation and gratitude. He was flattered that Harry sounded so aggrieved on his behalf, like he was outraged that anyone would treat Draco as his own mother had treated him. But on the other hand, he felt a compulsion to defend the people and social mores that he had grown up with.

“If I had only been interested in bedding Anastasia from time-to-time and was still willing to marry a nice—well, probably not so nice—pure-blood woman and produce an heir, my mother would have turned a blind eye to it. It was the fact that I effectively told her I would be ending two noble pure-blood lines that made her draw the line in the sand,” he explained. He couldn’t blame Harry for not understanding the complicated social rules of the pure-blood nobility. Unless you had grown up steeped in the traditions and beliefs, it was hard to comprehend the perceived severity of what he and Andromeda had done within their former social circle.

Harry looked like he wanted desperately to list the many ways in which the pure-blood wizarding society constituted evil incarnate, but Ginny cut him off. “Is debating about pureblood wizarding beliefs really what we want to be doing right now?” She arched an eyebrow at Harry meaningfully.

Harry laughed softly and shook his head. “No, you’re right. That’s really not what I’m in the mood for right now.”

“Good, because I can’t be the only one that is wanting to avoid potential boner killers,” she smirked.

“You are ever so classy, Ginevra,” Draco noted dryly.

“Why thank you, Draco, that is so kind of you to notice,” she said sweetly, purposely ignoring the taunt and taking the words at face value. Draco’s lips twitched at the corners as he fought an amused smile. “So, as I was saying, we will be discreet around the children and Andromeda, but I think that if Andromeda figures out something is up and asks us, we shouldn’t lie. And if Teddy or Lyra ask any questions about the three of us, we just simply tell them that we love each other.”

Draco shifted in his chair at her words and Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “Relax, Draco. I’m not saying we’re _in love_ with each other yet, just that we love each other since we’re family. Don’t be such...a _dude_.” Harry laughed and Draco scowled at him, which only made Harry laugh harder.

“If this is going to work, you’ll have to get used to Ginny teasing you at every opportunity. She can’t help herself. It’s a sickness,” Harry said through a wide smile, chuckling once more when Ginny sat up straighter and crossed her arms in front of herself, turning her body to face away from Harry.

“I consider it more of a gift than a sickness,” she said prissily before turning back towards Harry and Draco with an amused look when the two men laughed. She held up her hand, counting off on her fingers, “1) Open books, 2) Sexy times only with all three of us, and 3) No PDAs in front of the children and aunties. Anything else?”

The three of them exchanged looks for several moments but nobody else raised anymore proposed rules. “Perfect!” Ginny concluded. “Remember, we can always revisit and revise at any time.”

They all sat there in silence for a stretch of time but didn’t move. Finally, Draco cracked, “So...how do we...you know...start?”


	19. Chapter 19

Ginny and Harry glanced at each other and then Ginny turned her attention back to Draco before standing up. The humour bled out of her face and Draco swallowed as his mouth flooded in anticipation at the look of promise on Ginny’s face. Ginny stepped closer until Draco’s knee was between her legs, then she held out her hand to him. “Stand up.”

Draco took her hand and stood up unhurriedly, their bodies close, but an infinitesimal of space separated them. Draco lifted Ginny’s hand up, still resting softly in his palm, and slid it between their bodies before bending his head and placing a chaste kiss on the top of it. He nervously cast his eyes up and glanced at Harry over Ginny’s shoulder, but he was reassured when he found Harry smiling softly up at the two of them, watching eagerly.

Ginny chuckled softly and then whispered, “Let’s speed this up a fraction, yeah?”

Before Draco could process her words, she was pulling him down into a kiss. Her lips were soft and slick, tasting of cinnamon from the lip gloss she preferred in favour of lipstick. Draco took another glance at Harry to find the other man watching them eagerly while he rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. If his lust-blown pupils and the unconscious lick of his lips were not enough of a green light for Draco to proceed, the growing protrusion in the forest green bathing shorts would be.

Draco began to relax and let his eyes slip closed as he deepened the kiss with Ginny. Tilting her head to the side, her mouth opened in invitation against his and he eagerly responded, his tongue slipping past her teeth to undulate against hers. Draco lost track of time as their tongues danced together, hands grasping and pulling their bodies together in an intimate embrace.

Ginny pulled away lingeringly and Draco followed her retreat for a moment before he willed his eyes to open. He felt a little dazed as he managed to stutter out, “That’s...that’s a good start.”

Ginny’s eyes crinkled as she smiled up at him. “Your turn, Harry,” she said in a low voice as she held her hand out to him. Harry reached up and took hold of her hand and was yanked forward as soon as he’d stood up so that he was crowded against Draco’s side. Ginny’s hand slid around Draco’s side and onto his back as she shimmied around to his other side, pulling Harry around with her until he was planted in front of Draco.

Harry visibly swallowed and Draco wanted to wrap his lips around that Adam’s apple and suck until the skin was bruised and marked. “Are you sure about this...Potter?”

The taunt paid immediate dividends as Draco felt the soft brush of Harry’s cock move against his thigh. “I’m not scared, Malfoy,” Harry breathed out, his breath raising goose pimples down his spine as it brushed across his neck.

“Prove it,” he taunted, leaning down so their lips were tantalizingly close. Harry exploded into motion, his hands shooting up and grabbing Draco’s head, pulling it down towards him. This was no teasing, soft exploration of mouths; this was a battle of tongues as Harry plundered Draco’s mouth, licking over every part of it that he could reach. He held Draco firmly against him, both hands squeezing the sides of Draco’s head and steering him where he wanted. Draco vaguely registered a third hand slipping up his neck to twirl long fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, but his senses were overloaded with Harry’s kiss.

After a long minute, Harry pulled Draco’s head back, breaking the kiss, the two of them panting hard, kissing having taken priority over breathing. “I’m sure,” Harry gloated, eyes raking over Draco’s dishevelled appearance, his normally tidy hair debauched from Harry’s possessive hold.

“That was even better than I had imagined it,” Ginny said in awe. “How is that possible?” She reached up and ran her finger across Draco’s swollen lower lip, grinning when Draco pursed his lips and kissed the soft pad of her finger. As she moved her hand away, Harry grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, taking the very same finger into his mouth and sucking on it.

A long exhaled breath escaped Draco’s pursed lips at the sight and he thought that simple motion might just be one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. That was until Ginny pulled her finger free with a loud popping sound and brought it over to circle Draco’s nipple, the moisture from Harry’s saliva causing a subtle cooling sensation that was immediately chased away by the friction of her circling finger.

Ginny studied his reaction and noticed the way he jerked in response, his arm coming up to wrap around her lower back and pull her closer. Pleased, she bent down and placed her lips around the wrinkled skin of his nipple, which was barely a shade or two darker than the rest of his milky pale skin. His hand came up to bury itself in her hair, fingers spread wide over the back of her head and holding her in place. She took her time circling her tongue around the tiny protrusion of skin and nerves, enticing it into full erection before clamping her teeth down experimentally on it.

Draco gasped and, rather than pushing her away, the tips of his long fingers dug into her skull, holding her closer, so she took her time exploring the area, alternating flicks of her tongue with carefully applied bites. Harry’s nipples weren’t all that sensitive so they generally didn’t spend much energy on his, but as someone with highly sensitive nipples herself—though rare, with the right mood and the appropriate dedication, she’d been known to orgasm from nipple play alone—she knew how wonderful it felt when someone paid them their due.

Not wanting Harry to feel left out, without looking, Ginny fumbled around until she found Harry’s hand and pulled it forward, pressing it against the solidifying flesh behind the thin material of Draco’s bathing shorts. After a moment of anxiety that Harry would have second thoughts now that he actually had another man’s cock in his hand, her fears were brushed away as Harry cupped the length and began rubbing up and down, fingers curling under and around the bulge of Draco’s testicles.

Draco groaned as his body bucked and Ginny stood up to watch as Harry and Draco kissed, adding her own hand to Harry’s to feel the thick length of Draco’s cock, running her fingers all the way up the shaft to find the damp head peeking up past the elastic band of the bathing suit. Draco broke away from Harry’s mouth and then used a firm hand on each of their heads to encourage Harry and Ginny together. Ginny doled out teasing flicks of her tongue past the warm border of Harry’s lips before taking his lower lip between her teeth and biting down softly, their hands still grazing against one another’s as they continued to tease Draco’s cock to full attention.

Ginny smiled devilishly as she reluctantly gave up the thick flesh of Harry’s lip and saw the sharp line of her teeth on his skin. The grin grew larger as Draco dipped his head to run the tip of his tongue over the indentations on the skin below Harry’s bottom lip before diving back into Harry’s welcoming mouth.

Ginny thought she could watch the two men in front of her kissing for hours, but she had other things she wanted to do even more. Dropping down to her knees, she reached up and pulled the elastic band of Draco’s suit down until his gorgeous cock dropped down, swinging free at last. Ginny wrapped her thumb and index finger around the base of the cock, her palm resting against the patch of trimmed hair that was slightly darker than Draco’s head hair, and tightened the circle of her fingers until they were tight around the girth of Draco’s cock.

The soft, wet sounds of kissing from above trailed away and Ginny glanced up to find two pairs of eyes, one glittering emerald and one with the lustre of brushed aluminum, staring down at her. Without looking away, Ginny leaned forward and extended her tongue, swiping the tip of Draco’s cock across the textured surface and leaving a trail of slightly sweet precome on her taste buds.

“Fuck.” Draco didn’t seem to be aware that he had spoken and his eyes flashed wider at the sight.

Harry reached over and gently brushed the hair behind Ginny’s ear while smiling down at her and Ginny returned the look briefly before opening her mouth wide and enveloping about half of Draco’s length in her mouth. Ginny bobbed her head up and down a few times before pulling back and sucking small kisses along the ridge of the glans.

Glancing over, she saw the telltale bulge in Harry’s trunks and reached up to yank on the drawstring to loosen them. Understanding her intention, Harry pulled the ties loose and shimmied the material down, his cock swinging from side-to-side as he lifted alternating feet and kicked off the shorts.

Stepping in close, Harry’s cock was just on the other side of Ginny’s head. She continued her ministrations to Draco for a minute or so while she stroked Harry, encouraging the rush of blood into the area. Ginny placed a final kiss over Draco’s slit before turning her attention to Harry, sucking him down until the round tip of his prick was prodding the back of her throat.

Draco’s cock, which was still enclosed in her grip, shifted away from her as he bent down, burying his face in Harry’s neck, who obligingly tilted his head to the side to give Draco better access.

“Uunnnggghhh,” Harry groaned and Ginny smiled around the cock in her mouth. She would lay money down on the fact that Draco just stumbled across that spot behind Harry’s ear that turned him into jelly. She lifted Harry’s cock and held it against his abdomen with her thumb to give her better access as she dropped lower and sucked each of his testicles into her mouth in turn.

Ginny pulled back from Harry’s balls at the subtle pull of his hand in her hair and she was looking up at him as he slowly dropped down onto his knees beside her. He pulled her to him and they exchanged a soft, lingering kiss.

Harry’s intent gaze sent shivers down her back as Ginny extended her tongue and licked a swipe up the side of Draco’s cock. Harry’s eyes flickered from her lips to the dark pink glans of Draco’s prick, his tongue slipping out and licking his lips in an unconscious gesture of desire. She placed a swarm of tiny, nipping kisses around the ridge of his cock head as Harry watched, enjoying the swell of lust that she could read in his expression.

When Harry didn’t make a move to join in, Ginny pulled back and used her grip on Draco’s prick to point it towards Harry, bringing the tip close enough to Harry’s mouth that if he just extended his tongue and leaned forward the smallest fraction, he would enjoy a taste of the salty flesh himself.

Ginny wrapped her other arm around Draco’s leg, letting her fingertips stroke along the soft hairs of his inner thigh while they both waited to see whether Harry would travel down this new path and explore another man’s body for the first time.

“It’s okay, Harry. Whatever you want to...it’s okay.” Draco’s words came out in a soft croak, barely above a whisper. Ginny could feel his tension in the rigid muscles of his legs as he held himself stock-still. 

Harry’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed before his right hand slowly came up to slide over Ginny’s along the base of Draco’s stiff flesh. She retracted her grip, leaving the thick appendage in Harry’s grip and then dropped her hand to squeeze Harry’s thigh reassuringly.

“Go on,” Ginny encouraged, giving Harry a small smile. She knew how nervous he must be, but she also knew how intensely his desire for this had been raging for months now. Harry blinked a couple of times and pushed his glasses further up his nose before tentatively leaning forward and grazing his lips against the head of Draco’s cock. She watched with bated breath as Harry’s lips parted ever so slightly and she could just barely see the wet pink of his tongue slip past his barely parted lips and take the briefest of tastes.

Harry sat motionless for what felt like an immense length of time but was probably mere seconds before spreading his lips in a more definitive gesture and taking a decisive taste, slipping over the short slit.

“You taste...different,” Harry said, his brows drawing together as he dissected the flavour on his tongue.

“Different good, or different bad?” Draco asked, the tension still not easing from his body.

“Definitely different good,” Harry assured, smiling up at Draco. Ginny felt Draco’s muscles relax at Harry’s answer and she felt her own shoulders loosen in relief. “I think mine tastes a little sweeter?”

“Well that’s hardly shocking,” Draco teased. “With a sweet tooth like yours, I’m surprised you don’t ejaculate pure maple syrup.”

The nervous energy began to lessen as they all laughed. They’d all become very close over the past months and it was reassuring to have that reminder that they could tease one another—even when they were wearing significantly fewer clothes than usual.

“I hope you’re not always this much of a cock tease, Potter.” Draco sniggered as Harry seemed to remember that he still had Draco's penis in his grip.

“Maybe I can redirect enough blood to your dick to shut down the speech centre of your brain,” Harry taunted, one eyebrow cocking before he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around Draco’s length.

Ginny sat back and watched for a few minutes, feeling herself get even more wet as she enjoyed the sight of Harry delivering his very first blow-job. Unable to hold herself back anymore, she sank lower and licked circles along the wrinkled skin of Draco’s balls. A thin trail of saliva was creeping down from the messy, wet blow-job that Draco was receiving. She spent some time fondling his nuts, working in concert with Harry until Draco was reduced to incoherent, moaned expletives between heavy panting breaths.

Shifting back up, Ginny licked at the seam between Harry’s lips and Draco’s skin, following Harry’s retreat as he withdrew the sopping wet length from the depths of his mouth. As Harry’s mouth was vacated, Ginny dove in, taking it in an intense kiss as Draco’s tip grazed Harry’s cheek. They joined forces then, encasing Draco’s cock between them, their lips meeting as they circled the flesh from either side.

Draco pulled them off of him, frantically grabbing each of them by their hair. “Stop...you have to stop or I—” he gulped, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Harry’s face lit up with a smug look until Draco yanked experimentally on his hair, just once, causing a shocked look of arousal to replace it. His hand shot down to his own lap, stroking himself.

“One of us is wearing too much clothing,” Draco growled. He took a step back from the two of them and his libidinous eyes watched as Ginny pushed up from her kneeling position and shimmied out of her bathing suit.

Harry stood awkwardly, one hand gripping the other wrist in front of his crotch, shielding his nakedness from view to some extent. Ginny, on the other hand, stood confidently with her hands resting on her waist, one hip cocked out to the side and a knowing grin on her face. Her eyeline dipped down to Draco’s cock, which gave an excited bounce at the sight of the both of them, before raking slowly back up his body. “Like what you see, I take it?” she asked playfully.

Draco gave his own prick a slow, smooth pump, still slick with their combined saliva from their, frankly, phenomenal tag team blow-job. Draco stepped towards Ginny and circled around behind her, stepping up close so that the swell of her ass nestled against his prick. Ginny leaned back against him, letting the fiery waterfall of her hair tumble down his back as she rested her head back against his shoulder.

Draco’s hands smoothed along the long stretch of her stomach and upwards to take her breasts in his hands. He massaged them in his hands for a few seconds, memorizing the feel of them as her erect nipples prodded his palms. Remembering how talented she was at pleasantly tormenting his own nipples earlier, he took one of the furled peaks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it between them, twisting his fingers in a slow circle around the delicate bundle of nerves.

Ginny gasped and thrust her chest forward into his grip while grinding her backside against him, fingers grasping and digging into his own ass where she gripped him. Draco cast his eyes up from under his eyelashes and watched Harry stroke himself as he enjoyed Ginny’s volatile reactions to Draco’s ministrations. “She seems to have really sensitive nipples,” Draco murmured, enjoying how Harry’s strokes sped up briefly at the sound of Draco’s voice.

Harry cleared his throat before croaking out, “Yeah...she’s really sensitive there. Sometimes she can...she can come just from nipple play.” Harry reached up with his other hand and circled his thumb slowly around his own nipple.

“I am here, you know,” Ginny gasped out between panting breaths as she continued to squirm against Draco. “It’s rude to talk about me like I’m not even here.”

Draco chuckled. “Oh, believe me,” he paused to thrust his hips forward, his cock slipping up to leave a dab of moisture on her lower back, “we are both _very_ aware you’re in the room, Ginevra.” Draco watched Harry’s Adam’s apple bob as he took in Ginny’s responses, hand still stroking, almost unconsciously. “What about you? Do you enjoy nipple play this much?” Draco asked as he doled out a particularly sharp pinch to Ginny before going back to massaging her breast, his hand the perfect shape to cup its modest size.

“No,” Harry said ruefully, pinching his own nipple as if hoping to replicate the sensations that Ginny was experiencing. Unsuccessful, he slid his hand down to rest on the faint ridges of his abdomen. “Unfortunately it doesn’t do much for me.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Draco assured him. “I’m sure you have lots of other buttons just begging to be pushed.” He grinned when Harry flushed beautifully and bowed his head, rubbing his neck. Draco still enjoyed getting a reaction out of Harry, and this kind of reaction was even more satisfying than the childish bullying of his youth; hot all over was infinitely more enjoyable than just being hot under the collar.

Harry rallied himself and stepped closer, sandwiching Ginny between them. Draco could feel the tickling brush of Harry’s chest hair against the back of his hands. Harry’s warm hands burned into his skin as they slipped past Ginny to land on Draco’s lower back, just above the subtle swell of his bum. Harry’s head dipped down and he trailed his tongue along the ridge of Draco’s collarbone and up one of the tendons of his neck. Draco held his breath as Harry alternated licks and kisses along the tender skin of his neck, black hair over one shoulder and red over the other.

“What do you want?” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear, biting down on the lobe.

Draco pretended to consider the question for a moment before replying, “Dobby’s recipe for pheasant under glass. I haven’t ever managed to find one that tastes quite right.” Draco smiled to himself as Harry huffed out a laugh and Ginny pinched his asscheeks.

“Well, I could ask Kreacher if Dobby shared it with him, though I’m not sure whether elves are able to pull off trans-Atlantic Apparition. Hopefully, that can wait until the morning because Kreacher’s presence right now is just about the last thing I was hoping for.” Harry capped off his statement by running his tongue up the shell of Draco’s ear.

“Wait—do you think Kreacher would actually know it?”

Harry pulled back and looked at Draco, amusement on his face. “Are you serious right now? You want to talk about a recipe right now?”

“Pardon me, but I have only been fantasizing about you two for ten months or so,” Draco said reprovingly. “I have been fantasizing about that recipe since I was eleven years old!”

Harry laughed. “Okay, I will see what I can do—in the morning. But for now, do you have anything in mind that you’d like to discuss _besides_ fancy poultry?”

“I have something I’d like to discuss,” Ginny said, a wicked smile on her face. One of her hands disappeared from Draco’s skin and came around to wrap around his wrist, tugging it down between Ginny and Harry’s bodies. His hand grazed across the heated iron of Harry’s erection as Ginny directed it down and around the curve of her mound, his middle finger slipping between her labia to find the folds slick with her excitement.

Draco rubbed his finger back and forth over Ginny’s clit, pulling a groan from Ginny, followed shortly after by a matching groan from Harry as Draco’s knuckles grazed the front of Harry’s testicles. “I think there’s been enough discussion for tonight. I think now it’s time for some action. Get on the bed Harry. Feet on the floor.”

Draco continued his movements against Ginny’s wet vulva, alternating firm rubs with dips down to slip his middle finger into her. She was soft and warm and oh so wet and he was looking forward to the moment when he would sink his cock into her and feel all that welcoming heat envelop him. But he had other plans for this evening.

Once Harry was settled, his ass lined up with the edge of the bed and propped up on his elbows so that he could continue to watch them, Draco reluctantly removed his fingers from Ginny’s heat, swirling his fingers around in the thick patch of curls at the apex of her labia. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he enjoyed the first taste of Ginny’s arousal. He couldn’t wait to get a second one.

“Merlin,” Harry groaned as Draco made sure to lick every last morsel off his fingers. Ginny decided to take matters into her own hands and had replaced Draco’s hand with her own, while the other was pinching one of her nipples. Harry’s cock was flushed an angry red, and it was leaving a small patch of wetness on Harry’s abdomen, where it lay resting.

“I want to watch you ride him,” Draco urged, his voice low and oozing dominance. He used his grip on Ginny’s hips to push her forward, already missing the warmth of her body against his. When Ginny moved to straddle Harry, he stopped her with a growled, “Turn around.”

With a knowing grin, Ginny nevertheless did as he instructed and turned to face Draco, straddling Harry in a reverse cowgirl position. Draco pulled the chair over that he had vacated earlier and took a seat, giving himself a prime viewing experience. He couldn’t resist stroking his foreskin up and over the head of his cock and then back down again as Harry held his own cock erect and Ginny lowered herself down onto it with a groan of delight.

Draco watched, entranced, for several minutes as Ginny alternated between swivelling her hips in circles and bouncing up and down, fucking herself on Harry’s cock as she used Harry’s knees for leverage. Ginny’s eyes would close in ecstasy as a moan escaped her, only to open back up again helplessly under Draco’s stare. Harry’s thick fingers were wrapped around Ginny’s hips, helping to guide her movements. Unable to resist any longer, Draco slipped off the chair and onto his knees, crawling forward and spreading Harry’s legs, making room for himself and giving himself an up-close view of the most gorgeous sight he could imagine.

“Shame on you, Harry. Making Ginevra here do all the work,” he teased, stroking the long hairs on Harry’s legs against the grain as he slipped them over Harry’s knees and up his thighs towards the point where their bodies were joined. Ginny leaned back, resting her hands on the bedspread on either side of Harry’s torso and opening herself up to Draco’s greedy gaze.

Draco placed his hands over Harry’s on Ginny’s hips, halting her motion. Harry’s thick cock glistened, wet from where it disappeared from sight inside Ginny. Draco bent down and licked up from the base of Harry’s cock, over the juncture of their bodies, and up and out the top of Ginny’s pussy, giving her the briefest of hints at what he had in mind.

“Slow strokes, Harry,” he instructed. He felt Harry’s fingers squeeze underneath his own hands and Harry gave two small, experimental thrusts up of his hips.

“Fuck!” Ginny shouted as Draco dipped back in, this time focusing his attention on the engorged bundle of nerves in her clit. Ginny leaned further back and Draco looked up her body, her long neck terminating in the soft peak of her chin from where she had her head thrown backwards.

Draco held her labia apart with his thumbs, giving him better access as he sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue within the hot confines of his mouth. Above him, Ginny was letting out a litany of expletives as Harry’s strokes sped up, becoming more confident. Draco could feel the soft skin of Harry’s sack rubbing against his chin on each upward stroke and he couldn’t resist dropping down and running his tongue along the skin on the bottom as they bobbed against him.

Harry’s thrusts stuttered and his cock slipped free from Ginny’s body, smacking wetly against Draco’s cheek as he closed his eyes. Wrapping his hand around the base, Draco couldn’t resist slipping the length into his mouth, pressing down until he could feel his throat muscles fighting against the instinctive gag reflex. Draco swallowed a few times, knowing how mind-blowing the feeling of having your cock squeezed in the tight vise of someone’s throat could be.

Draco didn’t retreat quickly, instead curving his tongue around every inch of Harry’s prick as he grudgingly relinquished millimetre by millimetre of salty skin. Harry’s thighs were shaking with minuscule quivers and he was sure that Harry was close to the edge, but that would never do: Draco had much more planned for this evening.

Draco pushed himself up off his knees and exhaled, feeling his chin cool as the moisture coating it began to evaporate. He sat back and took in the sight of Ginny resuming her vigorous bouncing, her gorgeous, pert breasts bobbing in time with her thrusts. Sliding down in the chair, Draco braced his back against the backrest and, patting his thigh with one hand while he stroked his dick a few times with the other, he said, “My turn.”

For a second, Draco thought maybe Ginny hadn’t heard him, as lost as she seemed to be in the rhythmic up and down of her fucking, but gradually she slowed, her head rising and lust-drunk eyes prying open to meet his. Her neck and upper torso were a lurid pink, flooded with her arousal, and Draco made a mental note to ask whether spanking would be on the table because he desperately wanted to see her ass cheeks glowing from the swats of his palms.

Filing that away for a later date, Draco sent a smouldering look in Ginny’s direction as he patted his thigh again. Ginny grinned wickedly at him and then stood up, letting Harry’s cock slip free of her wet heat. She rested her hands on either side of Draco’s head on the backrest of the chair and swung one leg, then the other over him until she was sitting in Draco’s lap. It was impossible to resist; Draco pulled her against him, his cock slipping between her labial folds, as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, repaying the favour she’d done him earlier.

She swung her hips forward and back, rubbing her clit against his insistent length as he bit and sucked on her skin, the faintest remnant of vanilla just barely discernible under the salty remnants of the mineral water.

“Umm...anything I should be doing?” Draco begrudgingly gave up his sweet treat and craned his neck around to look at Harry, who was sitting on the bed and looking unsure. Draco was afraid that Harry was feeling left out, but from a quick glance down it appeared as if Harry was still very much interested in the proceedings.

“Are we boring you, Potter?” Draco teased. A surge of satisfaction lanced through him at the garbled sound that escaped Harry’s throat at the sound of his last name before he swallowed audibly and ran his gaze down Ginny’s back to where her ass was propped against Draco’s thighs.

“Nngh—nope, definitely not bored,” Harry groaned out, hand slipping down to wrap around himself.

“Have you ever been fucked before, Harry?” Draco asked. Slipping his hands down Ginny’s back, Draco spread his hands over the soft, curving skin of her ass and gripped them, pulling them apart to improve Harry’s view.

“Strap-on,” Ginny sighed from above him, her eyes closed as she continued to rock against Draco’s body.

Draco slipped his hands up to Ginny’s waist, stopping her movements as he felt an orgasm tingle insistently at the base of his spine at the mental image of Harry bent over for Ginny to fuck him. Another item added to the mental list of things he wanted to do with them. Ginny made a disgruntled sound at the fact that he’d stopped her grinding and Draco decided he needed a little helping hand to last as long as he needed to see through his grandiose plans.

“While Ginny and I are fucking, why don’t you make yourself useful and get yourself prepped for me because you’re up next.” Harry uttered a mumbled ‘fuck’ at Draco’s barked instructions and his hips bucked up from the bed at the idea. “Turn around and kneel on the bed, over by the pillows here so I can see you.” Draco nodded his head towards the head of the bed where he would have a clear line of sight as Harry stretched his hole in anticipation for Draco.

“Do you have any lube or anything?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t bring any with me, no, but my wand is in that dresser over there,” Draco nodded his head towards the drawer where he’d tucked his wand away earlier. Turning to Ginny, he asked, “Are contraception charms alright? Or would you prefer a condom?”

Ginny reached down between them and wrapped her fingers around his hard length, twisting her hand in half-circles. “The charm is fine, and Harry and I both have a clean bill of health,” she assured him, leaning in to kiss Draco softly.

“As do I. Brent’s the only person I’ve been with since the team physicals at the start of the season, and he and I always used condoms,” Draco promised. “Pass me my wand when you’re done with it, would you Harry?”

Harry cast a cleansing charm on himself before summoning a dollop of lube into the palm of his hand. He studied the wand in his hand for a moment before grinning and walking over to Draco. “You know, your wand still works pretty well for me,” he commented as he handed it over to the other man.

“It’s fortunate that that doesn’t bother me considering we’re about to share a whole hell of a lot more than a wand,” Draco smirked, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“Too much talking,” Ginny protested, slipping her hand over Draco’s mouth. He nipped at her fingers and she yelped, pulling her hand away and laughing.

“You heard the lady, Potter. Less talking, more action. Get on the bed and get busy.” Harry grinned at him before crossing behind Ginny’s back and sitting on the bed, leaning back and propping his leg up to give himself access.

Draco watched as Harry reached his hand down and ran his middle, lube-covered finger around the tight, small circle of his anus. Draco stared, captivated, as Harry teased himself, his eyelids fluttering closed over his emerald eyes.

“Have you forgotten about me?” Ginny asked, whispering into his ear before clamping her teeth around the lobe and biting down enough to send a sharp spike of pain through his nervous system.

“Mmmm, most definitely not,” he groaned, looking up at Ginny, who was grinning wickedly down at him, her eyes twinkling. The thought popped into his head, unbidden, that they were the exact colour of the beloved double-double, the unofficial favourite drink of the Canadian population. He shook his head to clear it and cast the necessary contraception and protection charms, before surreptitiously casting a wordless binding charm on himself that would ensure he lasted long enough to put Harry’s soon-to-be-ready hole to good use. After months of wanking to thoughts of these two, he was concerned his prick was liable to go off like a Weasleys' Wildfire Whizz-bang any minute now.

Setting his wand down, Draco held his dick steady as Ginny raised herself up and proceeded to settle down on it, her plush inner walls slick with her own excitement and ushering him into her body.

A flush of guilt suffused him as he realized that Ginevra was the first woman he’d been with since his wife. The feeling took him off guard, so much stronger than the mild pangs he’d experienced with his male lovers since losing Ana. He knew that she would want him to be happy, and he was positive that, had she still been alive, Anastasia and Ginny would be friends.

Draco forced the guilty thoughts away, tucking them away into a dark corner of his mind to examine later. Right now, all he wanted to focus on was the here and now; the soft brown freckles sprinkled all over Ginny’s body that put him in mind of a starry night sky; the gasping breaths coming from the bed that seemed to grow and reverberate until they filled Draco’s ears.

Ginny undulated on top of him, chasing her pleasure with abandon. Draco had no compunctions about sitting back and enjoying the show as she ground their pelvises together, his gaze sliding between the gorgeous redhead on his lap and the raven handful on the bed. Harry was watching them over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes as he continued to tease himself, clearly aroused by the sight of them moving together.

Ginny had one hand wrapped around his shoulder while the other balanced on his knee as she gyrated her hips hypnotically. Draco suppressed a groan as he ran his hands up the smooth expanse of her skin until they were cupping her breasts. He massaged the flesh between his hands before giving both of the flushed pink tips a sharp squeeze that caused Ginny to shudder. Her head swung forward and she levelled a smouldering stare at Draco, her lips parted a fraction as she panted softly.

Draco ran one thumb along the full curve of her lower lip before slipping the digit inside. Her lips tightened into a moue, wrapping themselves around his finger. Her tongue gave the intruding digit a few tenuous licks before wrapping around the entire length, exploring every loop and whorl.

Draco depressed her tongue with the pad of his thumb as he pushed down on her jaw, forcing her mouth open as he slid his thumb out. The rough grate of her teeth against his skin made him long to feel her teeth sink into his muscles. He ran the pad of his thumb along the edge of her lower teeth before finally slipping it free from the wet heat of her mouth.

Draco lowered his hand to Ginny’s pubis and ran his fingers through the short, curly hairs he found there, clasping them between each of his fingers and tugging gently before sliding his wet thumb down her slit.  He continued downward between the swollen mounds of her labia until it came to rest on her clit. He started a slow rub across the sensitive area, pulling a sweet moaning whimper from Ginny.

Tearing his eyes away from the sight of Ginny begging for his touch, Draco’s gaze slid over to Harry. From this vantage point, he could see that he’d worked himself up to three fingers, the tight squeezing sphincter of his anus resting between the first and second joints of the questing probes. Harry’s torso was twisted toward him, his head turned sideways on the bed with his eyes squeezed shut, mouth open with his panting. Harry looked blissed out and debauched and like he was on the verge of coming, but Draco wasn’t about to let that happen.

“How are you doing over there, Potter?” Draco smiled devilishly to himself as Harry’s fingers pushed further in at the use of his last name, his lower back curving to give him better access to his greedy little hole. “Are you just about ready for me?”

Harry’s only response was a muffled moan and a couple of meaningful plunges of his fingers. Draco took that as an affirmative sign and increased the speed and pressure on Ginny’s clit. It did not take long before he felt her leg muscles tense and a litany of curses poured out of her as her orgasm crested. Draco stayed with her, teasing out her pleasure as her inner muscles clamped around him, making him thankful once more that he’d had the foresight to bind his cock and forestall his own orgasm.

After a span of time, Ginny’s clit became too sensitive and she pushed his hand away, tiny tremors still periodically wracking her. Leaning forward, she wrapped her hands around Draco’s head, tipping it back and taking him in a languorous, intimate kiss. They hung there for a moment, lips caressing as their breathing slowed. Eventually, Ginny pulled back and stood up, Draco’s still erect cock slipping free of her snug heat.

Ginny sauntered over to the bed and sat down, leaning back and turning onto her side so that her face was close to Harry’s. “Your turn, Hare-bear,” she said as she ran her hand through Harry’s hair. His one visible eye peeled open and he looked up at her, sex-drugged and desperate. “You’re going to love this, aren’t you?”

Harry was beyond thought, head nodding yes against the cover of the bed before she’d even finished her question. “Yes, please,” he begged. “Now.”

Draco’s cock jerked at Harry’s desperate whine and he made his way over to the bed after retrieving his wand from the floor. Standing behind him, Draco looked down at Harry, who now had four fingers past the tight sphincter muscle, his pinky finger just barely long enough to breach. Draco took hold of Harry’s hand and slowly extricated it from his entrance, the muscle slowly lapsing back to its shrunken state.

“Your turn.” Draco ran his index finger around the wrinkled rim once before slipping two fingers in, spreading them wide, Harry’s prepared sphincter happily complying with the renewed stretching. Draco pointed his wand at Harry and cast a silent lubrification spell, renewing Harry’s earlier charm and ensuring the passage would be smooth and welcoming for his cock. “Are you ready?”

Harry nodded vigorously, bedspread becoming rumpled beneath him. “Merlin, yes!” Harry cried. Draco thought that he had been waiting long enough and so he pulled Harry’s hips back towards him and directed his cock to the waiting entrance. The two men groaned simultaneously as Draco pushed forward, Harry’s sphincter collapsing under the onslaught and allowing Draco’s cock to penetrate that first inch into Harry’s blazing hot channel.

“Fuck…” Ginny whispered. Draco turned to find Ginny’s avid gaze on the meeting place of their bodies. Draco’s grip tightened on Harry’s hips and he pulled the other man back further towards him, further onto his cock. Despite her recent orgasm, Ginny’s hand migrated down to her pussy, slipping between her legs.

Draco pulled back out, extracting a groan of complaint from Harry. “Stand up.” He smacked Harry’s ass hard once and backed up, giving the other man room to back off the bed. Turning to Ginny, Draco said, “I want to watch Harry lick your pussy while I fuck him. Does that sound good to you, Harry?”

“Merlin, yes!” Harry bent himself over the bed, propping his knees against the edge of the mattress and leaning on his elbows, ass held aloft enticingly in the air.

“I’m not one to turn down an offer to have my pussy licked,” Ginny grinned devilishly and then adjusted herself on the bed so that her legs were split to either side of Harry’s arms, scooting forward so that her cleft was within reach of Harry’s mouth. Ginny reached down and helpfully spread her labia apart for Harry, who wasted no time at all before diving in.

Draco watched hungrily as Ginny began to writhe beneath Harry’s experienced tongue as he ate her pussy with long, slow strokes. Turning his attention back to Harry’s ass, Draco staked his previous claim, pushing his cock through the tight muscles of Harry’s body and sliding forward until he was fully buried. He gave Harry some time to adjust to the fullness that Draco’s cock offered, pressing their bodies together tightly as he felt Harry shudder in pleasure, before he pulled back just enough to establish a steady, exquisite motion of retreat and advance.

Harry diligently kept to his task, holding his upper body stable with the rigid muscles of his back and arms as Draco fucked into him. Unable to restrain himself, the sharp rhythmic slap of the impact of their bodies filled the room as Draco increased his pace. Harry’s groans were muffled by the flushed pink of Ginny’s pussy as she placed her hand on the back of Harry’s head, holding him firmly against her as she pushed her backside off the bed and ground herself into his face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” Ginny chanted, obviously chasing a second release. Draco pushed down on Harry’s lower back, forcing it to bend as he aimed for Harry’s prostate with each thrust. As he watched, Ginny’s legs clamped shut, locking Harry’s head between her thighs, her toes curling under.

Draco took the moment of distraction to pick up his wand from where he had left it on the bed and end the binding charm on his cock. As soon as Ginny loosened her hold on Harry, collapsing back onto the bed and breathing hard, Draco bent forward and ran his hands over Harry’s shoulder and down and around to his biceps. Taking a firm hold on the thick muscles, Draco pulled Harry’s arms back and held his upper body aloft, using his grip to pull Harry back against him. 

“Do you like this, Potter? Does it feel good when I fuck you?” he ground out. Judging by the sounds Harry was making, Draco could make an educated guess that Harry had no complaints, but he needed to hear him say it aloud. Harry didn’t answer, only letting out a string of moans and groans, so Draco forced himself to slow to a stop, pulling out until his cock slipped free and lay resting against the twitching muscles of Harry’s ass. “If you’re not enjoying it, I can just stop,” he threatened teasingly as he caught his breath.

“Fuck you, Malfoy.” Harry finally managed to say, pushing himself back desperately as he tried to reclaim Draco’s thick cock. “Don't you dare stop!”

“Now now, Potter, no need for that,” Draco said soothingly. “All you had to do was ask. Maybe next time you can fuck me, but this time it’s my turn.” Harry’s body jolted at Draco’s words and Draco took that moment to shift forward, allowing his cock to slip into the tight crevasse once more.

Draco fucked him a few times, relishing the feral groans that he could push out of Harry’s body with each prolonged contact with his prostate. With his own orgasm creeping up on him, Draco hauled Harry’s body up so his back was plastered against Draco’s chest. Wrapping one hand around Harry’s neck, forcing his head back against Draco’s shoulder, Draco slid his other hand down to take hold of Harry’s cock.

Draco buried his lips against the lightly stubbled skin of Harry’s cheek as he stroked the other man. His eyes were pulled to the bed to find Ginny stretched out with her head resting on one of the pillows and watching them with a gentle smile on her face, idly toying with one of her nipples. “You two are so sexy,” she purred, seemingly blissed out.

“Hear that, Potter? The lady thinks we’re sexy,” Draco informed Harry as he continued to stroke him intently. “And now you’re going to come for us and you’re going to drag me right over that cliff with you, aren’t you?” Harry’s body spasmed, his ass grinding against Draco’s groin and it only took two more strokes of his cock before Harry went off. Harry’s come shot out of him, splashing across the bedspread in an erotic Pollock impression. Harry’s ass muscles clenched, vise-like, as his orgasm overtook him, and that was all Draco could take before he loosed himself inside Harry, the long-denied orgasm sweeping through him inexorably.

Harry shuddered as Draco gave his cock one final stroke, running his fingers over the wet head before lifting them up to his mouth and licking away the sticky liquid. Harry was right: his was sweeter.

Draco slid his hand down from Harry’s neck, resting it on his chest above the steady drumbeat of his heart, holding him close in a hug as their racing pulses slowed. Draco placed a soft kiss against Harry’s shoulder before retreating, extricating his cock slowly from Harry’s ass to prevent discomfort. When he had slipped free, and was already craving the next taste of these two, Harry crawled onto the bed and collapsed next to Ginny, who shifted up to his back and curled herself around him.

Draco stood awkwardly, unsure what came next now that the fog of lust had cleared. At a loss for what to do, he picked up his wand and busied himself casting cleaning charms at Ginny and Harry before doing the same for himself. That being done, he set the wand down on the bedside table and returned to standing awkwardly over them. “Well...that was…”

“Bloody brilliant,” Harry finished his sentence, eyes still closed and a giant grin on his face.

Ginny propped her head up and eyed Draco for a moment before dropping it back down to the pillow, shaking her hair out so that it splayed behind her. “Just lay down for a cuddle, Draco. We won’t bite,” she said gently.

“Unless you want us to,” Harry joked, one eye popping open and giving Draco a smile that promised trouble. Reaching out, Harry took hold of Draco’s wrist and tugged, and Draco moved towards him, crawling onto the bed and laying down stiffly beside them.

“Kind of hard to cuddle when you’re all the way over there,” Harry muttered, patting the empty bed between them. Draco took a deep, steadying breath and then shifted back a couple of inches until Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s midsection and pulled him up close against him. Seconds later, Ginny's hand slid around his waist and settled against his stomach as well.

Draco laid there stiffly for a time, but eventually the combination of the post-orgasm euphoria and the comforting touches eased his discomfort. “Don’t forget you promised to get me that recipe in the morning,” he said, earning him a huff of breath across his neck from a chuckle behind him. He did nothing to stop the contented smile that stole across his face as he drifted off to sleep.

 


	20. Chapter 20

“Good morning, Draco. Please, take a seat.”

Draco crossed the room and took a seat in the plush armchair that he always sat in during his appointments. His Mind-Healer, Roberta McKenzie, was seated behind her desk, finishing her notes from the previous session. He looked over in time to see the pale ghost of a smile dissipate from her face at his choice of chair.

Draco had been coming to see Mind-Healer McKenzie since late January when he’d made the deal with the devil—or, in this case, Sheena—that he would attend three therapy sessions as a condition of his coming back to work after his attack. To his surprise, he had actually found the sessions helpful; Roberta didn’t try to dazzle him with a bunch of mental mumbo-jumbo or insist on any invasive procedures like Legilimency. Rather, she preferred to ask subtle questions which provided structure to his own wispy thoughts and allowed him to come to conclusions that he already sensed were there, just barely out of reach on his own. Aside from a few relaxation and verity charms placed over the room, her approach was surprisingly Muggle-like (or what he assumed Muggle therapy to be like, anyway), and when his mandated three sessions were over, he had found that he wanted to continue with the biweekly sessions, much to his surprise.

He admired Sheena’s self-control; if their positions had been reversed, he wasn’t so sure he would have resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so.’

Draco sat patiently twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Roberta to finish her session notes. He had found that it generally took about ten minutes for the charms to settle into his tense muscles and perform their magic, so he had gotten into the habit of showing up early for their sessions. Fortunately, Roberta had been accommodating and they would sit in silence until it was the designated time for their session to begin.

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the relaxation charms kicked in, and it felt like all of his concerns rode the currents of that invisible breath and vacated his body. He settled back into the chair, arms resting along the arms, enjoying the feeling until Roberta finished her notes, closed the book and tapped it with her wand, setting it to levitating over to the bookcase. During his second session, he had attempted to remove one of the books from the bookshelf only to find that it had transformed into a dog-eared copy of _Life of Pi_ , the session notes invisible to him—it was a rather clever charm.

Roberta waved her wand and floated Draco’s own session notes into her hands, then she circled around the desk and took a seat on the couch. His notes were disguised as a popular young adult book with a sapphire blue dragon on the cover, which Draco was inclined to think was a bit on the nose, but he supposed he should be grateful that it wasn’t _Puff the Magic Dragon_ , at least. Crossing her legs, Roberta opened the book and rested it on her thighs, pen poised above the page, before turning her attention to Draco.

“What would you like to talk about this week, Draco?” she asked, looking at him expectantly. Without answering immediately, Draco reached over and picked up the cube that was sitting on the small side table. She had told him that some clients find having something to do with their hands helped to set them at ease, and the toy was a perfect tool for that. Apparently, it was possible to arrange all the little square tiles so that each side was a single colour, but Draco had his doubts.

He rotated one tier of the tiles, causing four of the little squares to line up. “Lyra wants Ginny to be her new mother,” he finally replied.

“What makes you think that?” Roberta prodded.

“She told me.” When he didn’t elaborate, she just watched him patiently until he sighed and continued. “Well, technically she asked whether Ginny would take her to the Queen & Princess Royal Ball at the library next month.”

“I see. What do you think of that?” she asked.

Draco managed to add a fifth orange square to the side he was working on. “It concerns me. I don’t want Lyra to start thinking of her as a mother figure and then lose her.”

“Oh? Is something wrong between you and Ginny and Harry?” she asked. Draco looked up at the soft scratching sound of her pen taking note of some observation she’d made.

Draco felt a compulsion to disprove whatever conclusion she’d thought down. “Not at all,” he said, feeling defensive. “Things between us are actually going quite well.”

A memory of last night flitted across his mind and he smiled to himself. He had been quite amused when he’d discovered the source of Harry’s discomfiture after their first victory when Jared had declared that to keep their winning streak active, nobody on the team was allowed to change their underwear. Apparently Harry and Ginny had decided to switch underpants for the day and Harry had been wearing a bright purple lace pair of knickers ever since.

That is, until today. The entire team had been upset by their loss to the All-Stars yesterday, but they’d managed to keep the streak going for three games, which was a considerable improvement from where the team was a year ago, so Draco was quite proud of his players. He had lamented the loss of the lacey knickers though. They had paid them a fitting farewell tribute last night though, with them pushed to the side to allow Draco to ride Harry’s cock while Ginny sat on Harry’s face.

“Very well, actually,” Draco amended. Roberta’s eyebrow merely spiked higher as she inspected him and Draco made an effort to compose his features. He knew that she didn’t use Legilimency (Draco was skilled enough in Occlumency that he was sure he’d be able to sense it if she attempted to slip into his memories), but she was so skilled at reading people’s body language that she always seemed to know what he was thinking anyway.

“If things are going well, what makes you fear that Lyra will become attached only to lose Ginny?” Roberta propped her chin on her hand, elbow resting on the armrest of the sofa.

Draco spun two outer edges of the cube in opposite directions, not really paying any attention to the puzzle at all, while he tried to sort out his thoughts, digging through his jumbled feelings to try to find the buried concern that was making him uneasy. “I don’t...I...I think maybe it’s more that I’m afraid Anastasia will be replaced,” Draco finally forced himself to admit.

“That’s a natural reaction,” Roberta assured him. “However it is also very natural for Lyra to have a desire for a mother figure.” At Draco’s scowl, she gave him a kind smile and continued in order to forestall his objection. “It is not an indictment on your ability as a parent. Even if their parent is exemplary and provides ample love, comfort, and support, children of single parents may still experience a desire to have a second parental figure. If most of her friends have a mother figure in their lives, Lyra may wish she, too, had someone that she could consider a mother.”

Draco sighed and dropped his head back against the chair, looking up at the ceiling as he thought about what she had said. He thought about Harry and how he had grown up without either of his parents. Of how he had so readily been embraced into the fold of the Weasley family and how he thought of them as his true family now.

Living halfway across the world from them was hard on both Harry and Ginny, but now that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had a cell phone (which had been a Christmas gift from Harry), and had been instructed on how to use it (an arduous task that was undertaken by Hermione), it was rare that three days would go by without them checking in with each other. Draco could always tell when Harry had just spoken with him because he had a sense of calm surety about him, like he had been reminded of his place in the world.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Draco conceded, lifting his head up to look at Roberta once more. “So how would you suggest I handle this, then?”

“Have you asked Ginny how she feels about it?” Roberta asked.

“Ginny was actually how I found out about this,” Draco said, hands fiddling nervously in his lap. “She took the kids to the library this past weekend and Lyra saw a poster for the Ball and asked Ginny to take her.”

“What did Ginny tell Lyra?” Roberta asked as she added a quick notation to her notes.

“She said that she would have to ask me first, but Lyra hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it, so maybe I’m just blowing this all out of proportion and it was just a passing fancy.” Draco could hear the desperate hopefulness in his tone. It would be so much... _easier_ if this was all just his overactive mind making a mountain out of a molehill.

“It is in the best interest for all of you that you and Ginny are on the same page for this. I would also advise that you include Harry in the discussion so that he doesn’t feel excluded and so that his feelings are heard.”

Draco nodded and mustered a wan smile, wishing she’d just agreed with him that he was probably creating the whole problem out of whole cloth.

Uncrossing her legs, she leaned forward, elbows resting on the opposing pages of the notebook in her lap and as she pinned him with an unflinching stare. “I know that this must be very difficult for you, and you’ve mentioned that you still have lingering feelings of guilt that you’re betraying Anastasia,” she said, causing Draco to squirm uncomfortably, a flush of heat making his collar suddenly feel far too constricting. Roberta continued as if she didn’t notice, even though Draco was sure she could read him like a book. “And we can focus on working you through those feelings in our sessions, but it’s important for Lyra to feel safe in her desires and that she feels that she can be honest with you, don’t you agree?”

The last thing he wanted to do was to make Lyra feel like she had to hide things from him. As unfair as it was, Lyra never got to meet the clever, funny, brave, and beautiful woman that had brought her into this world, so it was only natural that she would start to think of Ginny as a maternal figure. Ginny helped her brush her teeth and tuck her into bed at night, they played Super Mario Kart and Ginny always ran her own kart off the track to give Lyra time to take the lead, and when Lyra did laps during her swimming class, Ginny was the person cheering her on from the sidelines. Ana got robbed of the chance to do all of those things, but it didn’t change that Ginny chose to be there every day when Lyra needed her.

“Of course,” Draco croaked out, his voice cracking as he fought back a swell of emotion that threatened to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll sit down and have a discussion with Ginny and Harry tonight.”

Roberta nodded and jotted something down in her notes before closing the book, setting it on the couch beside her, and clasping her hands around her knee. “What would you say to spending the rest of our time today going over some techniques you can use to keep Anastasia’s memory alive?”

Draco felt a tiny bud of hope take root inside of him at her words. He knew that a part of him would always love Anastasia, but he didn’t want to spend his whole life lugging around this sense of guilt that he was trying to replace her. And he wanted Lyra to know she had a mother that would have been so incredibly proud of the wonderful person she had become.

“I’d really like that,” Draco said with a relieved sigh.

***

“He’s here! He’s here!”

Draco chuckled to himself as he heard the excited shouts of his daughter from inside, the white lace curtains in the windows of the mudroom swinging back into place. Harry had not-so-subtly suggested that, since it was such a beautiful day, it would be a great idea for Draco to take Harry’s convertible into town for his appointment rather than Apparating there.

Draco had played along with the ruse and had driven away a couple of hours ago. He had chuckled to himself as he revved the engine and sent gravel flying into the air, peeling off down the long U-shaped driveway and twisting the wheel, skidding around the corner and down the rural road. He was sure that Harry had been watching impotently as Draco had sped recklessly away in his precious “Ruby.” Why would someone name their car, anyway?

Stepping out of the car, Draco shut the door and then leaned down into the backseat and pulled out the bags of groceries. When he’d stepped out of his appointment and turned his cell phone back on, he’d barely managed to slip it back into the pocket of his suit coat before it was ringing. Ginny had rattled off a large list of items that they were in frantic need of, sending him all the way across town and back to visit four different establishments. He knew it was all a tactic to delay his going home, but he didn’t want to be a stick in the mud and ruin their surprise, so he dutifully followed all of her instructions.

Now, here he was hours later and he hoped he’d given them enough time to prepare. Walking up to the front door, Draco pulled open the screen door, resting it against his hip as he turned the knob on the inner door, which was never locked. “I’m back!” he called out as he walked in. “I got everything you asked f—”

“SURPRISE!” Lyra screamed, a beat before the rest of the party guests joined in. He arranged a look of amazement on his face as he scanned the room to see who was there. He wasn’t shocked to see the entire team present, but he was pleasantly taken aback when he noticed Mrs. Oxborrow clapping her hands, a wide smile pointed in his direction. After they’d moved, they’d managed to arrange one dinner, but then a huge blizzard had hit, and then the team had a big match coming up that had taken up a lot of his time, and before he knew it, they had gone months without seeing their old neighbour. He was grateful that his family had thought to include her in the invites for his birthday party.

He held his arms out and away from his body as Lyra came barrelling into him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. Jackson and Patricia relieved him of the heavy bags and he mouthed a “thank you” to them before hunching over and hugging his beautiful baby girl.

“Happy birthday cousin Draco!” Teddy greeted him, holding his hand out in front of him for Draco to shake. Handshakes were Teddy’s newest obsession and Draco obliged the boy. He fought back a chuckle as the small boy took his hand and shook it in two decisive, quick shakes, a serious look on his face as if they’d just finalized a peace accord.

“Happy birthday,” Ginny approached him next, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a lingering kiss on his cheek that, despite its seeming chastity, still sent a shot of lust through him. Pulling back, she winked at him before stepping back and getting towed away by Lyra and Teddy to resume their paused video game. “I’ll give you your present later,” she promised, laughing as the two kids pulled her bodily from the room.

Harry came up beside him and wished him a happy birthday as he clapped him on the shoulder. He still hadn’t made it past the doorway, so Harry’s arm was hidden from view as it slipped down off his shoulder, the faint pressure creeping down his back until it settled on the small of his back. It paused there for just long enough that Draco began to flush, simultaneously wanting Harry to move it away in case anyone happened to notice and to slide it further down to cup his ass more possessively.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could read Draco’s thoughts and then the torturous hand disappeared. “So, did it work? Did we surprise you?”

“Yes, mission accomplished, Harry. I am very surprised,” he claimed, but Harry’s eyebrows drew together as he studied him, apparently unconvinced.

“Well, we tried,” Harry said, shrugging happily and patting Draco on the shoulder before stepping aside and letting the other party-goers give them his greetings, making a beeline straight for the buffet of food that covered the entire table.

He hugged Andromeda tightly before she held him out at arm’s length and stared at him, eyes sparkling with moisture. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said warmly, the endearment wrapping around him as surely as her arms had moments ago. “I’m so proud of you, and I’m so grateful that you came back into our lives.”

“Me too, Auntie. Me too,” Draco choked out, suddenly at risk of tears himself. Before he had decided to take a huge risk and pack him and Lyra up and move them across the world, he had thought that they were doing perfectly fine. Now, looking back at his life before, it felt like they had been barely subsisting.

Andromeda gave him another tight hug and Draco made a point of ignoring the movement of her arms against his back as she brought her hands up and wiped at her eyes. After that, he was juggled across the room by the rest of the team, receiving alternating hugs and claps on the back. He cast a scowl at Jared after the other man playfully messed up his hair, but Jared merely laughed and grinned unrepentantly back at him as Draco tried to calm down his ravaged locks.

By the time  he had made his way around the room to Mrs. Oxborrow she was chatting amicably with Sheena, a tumbler of whiskey in the other woman’s hand.

“Happy birthday, Draco! It was so nice of your friends to think of me and invite me along.” Marjorie gave him a wide smile, crow’s feet forming in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m glad as well. I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve seen you,” Draco replied, giving his ex-neighbour a quick hug before stepping back and nodding to his boss. “Thank you for coming, Sheena.”

“One of my rules in life is to never turn down an open bar,” she joked, holding up her whiskey tumbler in salute before taking a sip. Draco chuckled. “Marjorie here was just telling me some of the craziest stories from her years as a teacher.”

“Oh yes, but don’t let me monopolize the conversation. Set me off and I could chatter on for days. Tell me, what drew you to accounting?” Marjorie asked, turning to Sheena, who tensed at the question.

Draco was casting around for a change of topic when Sheena said smoothly, “I like the balance. Everything has to be accounted for at the end of the day and there’s a lot of comfort in that.”

Marjorie slowly nodded her head, and Draco shot Sheena a grateful look for going along with the ruse he had set up all those months ago.

Andromeda saved them from any further talk of accounting when she came up to their small group and announced that everyone was to go outside for pictures. They all filed out the back door and across the lawn to have a group picture taken. Harry fumbled with the camera, a Muggle model which was sitting on a tall tripod in the grass. Andromeda arranged them all to her satisfaction and then gave Harry a thumbs up. He pressed a button on the device and then sprinted across the lawn to the spot that Andromeda was pointing at.

“Say ‘cheese’,” Teddy instructed the group, and they all said ‘cheese’ just before the click of the camera could barely be heard.

They took a few more for safety, and then Draco took a variety of photos with small subsections of the partygoers. Marjorie excused herself to use the washroom and Lyra and her set off hand-in-hand so Lyra could show her where it was. Much to his surprise, the team had hauled him up onto their shoulders for the team picture. “We didn’t even win the championship! This is wholly unnecessary!” he protested.

“Just wait until next year when we DO win the championship!” Patricia exclaimed. “We’ve already got big plans for that!”

“Yeah! Let’s just say that Mac the Moose is going to go for a bit of a meander,” Jared said, grinning.

“I did not hear that,” Sheena deadpanned.

“I said that Mac is go—” Jared was cut off by Jackson slapping his hand over his mouth.

“Dude, be cool!” Jackson hissed. Jared’s eyebrows shot up as realization set in and he nodded vigorously. Jackson slipped his hand away and Jared winked at him, beaming. Sheena rolled her eyes at their antics.

“Everyone, look this way,” Andromeda called out. She took a few moments to centre them in the frame and then snapped a few pictures.

When Marjorie returned, Draco took a few pictures with her and Lyra and himself before Marjorie retired to the deck, claiming one of the reclining deck chairs and resuming her chat with Sheena.

“Andromeda, do you mind taking a picture of the three of us with the kids?” Ginny asked.

“Of course not, dear,” Andromeda readily agreed, taking the camera from Harry. Ginny stood between Draco and Harry, who each wrapped one arm around her back to settle on her hips. Lyra stood in front of him and Ginny, with Teddy mirroring her in front of Harry. Ginny wrapped her arms around the two children and rested one of her hands on each of their shoulders. Draco watched as Harry reached up and placed his own hand over top of Ginny’s on Teddy’s shoulder and, after a brief hesitation, Draco did the same, resting his hand atop Ginny’s on Lyra’s shoulder.

Ginny’s fingers shifted underneath his and spread, allowing his to slip between, and Draco didn’t need to say cheese to prompt the smile that broke across his face. He didn’t even notice the click of the camera.

“Such a beautiful family,” Andromeda sighed.

“I’m STARVING,” Lyra proclaimed, and just like that the moment burst and the adults all laughed at her dramatics.

“Do you hear that, Harry? Lyra is STARVING,” Ginny said, bending over and rubbing Lyra’s tummy brusquely.

“I’d better fire up the barbeque then. I wouldn’t want our little Lyra to fade away from starvation,” Harry said somberly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in stifled amusement. Harry took the camera back from Andromeda and promised to take it in to get it developed and to make copies for everyone. “Now, who wants a hot dog and who wants a hamburger?”

A cacophony of voices answered the question, all shouting their individual grill order and Draco laughed. He couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate his birthday.

 


	21. Epilogue

Narcissa jumped at the sharp rapping sound and turned to see a tawny barn owl perched on the window ledge. She eyed the owl suspiciously: who in Merlin’s name would be writing to her? She scowled at the bird, hoping that looks could kill, but the stupid animal remained perched on the frame staring back at her with its head tilted to the side and a square white envelope trapped in its beak.

Annoyed, Narcissa marked her spot in _The Celestial Quill_ with the white peacock feather she still used as a bookmark—one of the few remnants from the Malfoy Manor that the Ministry had actually let her keep, and only then because it wouldn’t even fetch a single Knut. Crossing to the window, Narcissa went to open it only to find it stuck shut. After a few increasingly vigorous jerks, the windowpane became unstuck and slid upwards, sending chips of dingy white paint scattering over the window frame.

Narcissa took the proffered envelope from the owl but before she could rustle in her robe pockets for a coin to pay the bird, it hooted and took flight, much to Narcissa’s relief. She already lived on a tight enough budget with the paltry stipend that the Ministry provided for her; she didn’t want to waste her tiny margin of savings for what would probably be simply another anonymous death threat. It had been about a year since she’d received one of those, but the wizarding world’s memory was long and it was only a matter of time until someone remembered she was out here in exile and tracked her down.

Narcissa inspected the snow-white envelope. It was addressed to her in a sloping, loopy cursive script, but there was no return address. The envelope was of the Muggle variety and rather than being sealed with wax, it was held closed with adhesive. Eyeing the envelope with distaste, Narcissa headed to the kitchen—a mere few steps required compared to the expansive grandeur of her former abode—and retrieved a knife from her cutlery drawer. She may have fallen from grace, but at least she didn’t need to dirty her hands with someone’s disgusting saliva-encrusted envelope.

Edge cut open, and spittle safely avoided, Narcissa pulled the letter out of the envelope. As the letter slipped free of the envelope, something else fell out and fluttered to the ground before she could catch it, only providing her with a brief flash of colour before it landed face down on the floor at her feet.

Unfolding the letter, her nose scrunched in distaste when she discovered it was written on that cheap Muggle paper that was so popular thanks to those atrocious electronic gadgets that seemed to be everywhere nowadays. Why anyone would choose this bleached, too-smooth paper that was offensively bright over a nice, soothing parchment paper was beyond her.

Narcissa pinched the offensive paper around the edge, limiting her contact with the unsavoury thing. As she began to read the blood rushed out of her face, leaving her already pale complexion closer to that of a death mask.

_Narcissa,_

_Twenty-five years ago today, you laid aside your anger and shared your joy. I have treasured that photo of your son, my nephew, for twenty-four years. For the last year, I have been blessed with the honour of treasuring him in person. I know that this may fall on deaf ears, but I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your sister if I didn’t at least try. You laid aside your anger once. I hope you can do so again. Not just because Draco deserves to have his mother in his life, but also because I know a mother’s love never fades. Please, sister, heal this wound you’ve inflicted and ease both of your sufferings._

_Love, always,_

_Andromeda_

Narcissa crushed the paper in her fist, aversion to the Muggle-ness of it swamped and submerged with the wave of rage that flooded her. How DARE that...that...traitorous bitch blame _her_. Narcissa had given up everything for her son. She had risked her life to save him, and he had flung her countless sacrifices back in her face, had betrayed everything their family stood for, everything they believed in.

Tremors of barely suppressed rage seized her body, the crumpled letter crunched in her clenched fist crinkling with the spasms. Narcissa took a few deep breaths through her nose, trying to calm herself down, but it was no use. Pulling out her wand, she cast a wordless _Incendio_ , unconvinced she would even be able to say the incantation out loud in her emotional state. Watching the foul letter ignite in a flash of fire acted as a soothing balm, her anger starting to ebb as if erasing the words from existence could wipe away her memory of them.

When the heat of the flames licked across her fingers, she dropped the rapidly disappearing paper into her sink. As she did so, her eyes snagged on the forgotten slip of paper at her feet. Bending over, she snatched it up and was about to give it the same treatment when she stopped, sucking in a gasp of breath.

Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the bright, beaming smile of her son. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so relaxed and happy. The photograph was one of those basic Muggle ones, so the people in the photo were captured immobile, and she felt a burning desire to know more about the moment the photograph had captured.

Draco was standing tall, his head tilted back slightly mid-laugh. His hair was shorter than the last time she’d seen him, a few loose strands falling down over his forehead. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from Draco and scanned over the other two adults in the picture. Her head jerked back in surprise before she pulled the photograph closer and inspected it. There was no denying it: that was Harry Potter. What in Merlin’s name was Draco doing with Harry Potter? Harry was grinning in the direction of Draco and the woman standing between them: Ginny Weasley.

Even effectively living under a rock as she had been, Narcissa had heard the news when Harry Potter had left the fair Albion shores for the new world. It had felt like the entire country had mourned the loss of their shining hero. Narcissa was repulsed by the fawning hero-worship, and felt ashamed that even she was not immune to it: she would always be grateful to Harry Potter for assisting her in saving her son’s life.

Narcissa’s eyes skated over the red-headed woman standing between them with little interest until she noticed the fingers resting at her waist. The sight of the two men’s arms wrapped around the woman’s waist poked at Narcissa’s curiosity. There was a small boy, probably about six or seven years old, standing in front of Harry, the man’s hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. Narcissa scrutinized the boy, trying to decide whether he resembled Harry or the woman, but no definitive conclusions presented themselves. Her cause was certainly not helped by the fact that the boy had contorted his hands around, his index and thumb fingertips held together in wide circles in front of his eyes as if they were glasses.

Finally, Narcissa turned her attention to the last figure in the image and found herself rooted to the floor as surely as if a lance had pierced through her. She wasn’t certain how long she stood there—time lost all meaning as she stared at the near-angelic face of her grandchild. Unlike the boy, there was no doubt at all that this little girl was Draco’s daughter. Her platinum blonde hair was the exact shade of Draco’s and she had a fine, patrician nose. Her eyes twinkled with adoration and amusement as she watched the taller boy’s antics.

Narcissa’s vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. Her gaze crawled back up the glossy photo, returning to her son’s face. She drank it in, taking solace in the fact that her son appeared to be happy and thriving. Then she forced her eyes closed and raised her wand, pointing it at the treacherous image. A simple photograph threatened to overwhelm the bulwarks she’d worked hard to erect around herself.

She held the wand aloft, working up the resolve she needed to seal her heart off for good.

And fell short.

Her wand hand dropped to her side and she sagged against a cupboard, the thin length of wood clattering to the floor as she slammed the photo face down on the countertop to shield it from her view. Opening her eyes once more, she couldn’t help noticing the writing on the back of the photo for the first time:

_Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, Canada_

_June 5, 2005_

Her baby’s birthday.

Narcissa slowly flipped the photo back over. She stood there unmoving as the sun set on the day, a steady trickle of tears painting her porcelain cheeks, a wisp of a smile pulling on her lips.


End file.
